^ 
m 


CONDENSED  NOVELS 

SECOND  SERIES 

NEW  BURLESQUES 

BY 

BRET  HARTE 


BOSTON    AND    NEW   YORK 

HOUGHTON    MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

Cbe  fltoersiDr  prestf  Cambn&QE 


i>  \ 


COPYRIGHT    1902   BY   HOUGHTON,   MIFFLIN   &  CO. 
ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 


Published  October,  igoa 


CONTENTS 


PAGB 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER.>  By  A-tli—y  H-pe  .  1 
THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE.  By  A.  Co~n  D~le  37 
GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN,  OR  THE  MINX  AND 

THE  MANXMAN.     By  Hull  C—ne  ...          63 
THE  ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE,  YEOMAN     103 

DAN'L  BOREM.     By  E.  N—s  W~t f          .        . 

STORIES  THREE.     By  R-dy-d  K-pl~g      .        .        165 

FOR  SIMLA  REASONS 

A  PRIVATE'S  HONOR 

JUNGLE  FOLK 
"ZuT-SKi."    By  M-r-e  C-r-lli     .        .  197 


271632 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

BY  A-TH-Y  H-PE 


CHAPTER  I 

RUPEKT   OF   TRULYRURALANIA 

WHEN  I  state  that  I  was  own  brother 
to  Lord  Burleydon,  had  an  income  of 
two  thousand  a  year,  could  speak  all  the 
polite  languages  fluently,  was  a  powerful 
swordsman,  a  good  shot,  and  could  ride 
anything  from  an  elephant  to"  a  clothes- 
horse,  I  really  think  I  have  said  enough 
to  satisfy  any  feminine  novel-reader  of 
Bayswater  or  South  Kensington  that  I 
was  a  hero.  My  brother's  wife,  however, 
did  not  seem  to  incline  to  this  belief. 

"A  more  conceited,  self -satisfied  little 
cad  I  never  met  than  you,"  she  said. 
"  Why  don't  you  try  to  do  something  in 
stead  of  sneering  at  others  who  do  ?  You 
never  take  anything  seriously  —  except 
yourself,  which  is  n't  worth  it.  You  are 


4    '  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

proud  of  your  red  hair  and  peaked  nose 
just  because  you  fondly  believe  that  you 
got  them  from  the  Prince  of  Trulyrural- 
ania,  and  are  willing  to  think  evil  of  your 
ancestress  to  satisfy  your  snobbish  little 
soul.  Let  me  tell  you,  sir,  that  there 
was  no  more  truth  about  that  than  there 
was  in  that  silly  talk  of  her  partiality  for 
her  husband's  red-haired  gamekeeper  in 
Scotland.  Ah!  that  makes  you  start  — 
don't  it?  But  I  have  always  observed 
that  a  mule  is  apt  to  remember  only  the 
horse  side  of  his  ancestry  ! " 

Whenever  my  pretty  sister-in-law  talks 
in  this  way  I  always  try  to  forget  that 
she  came  of  a  family  far  inferior  to  our 
own,  the  Razorbills.  Indeed,  her  people 
—  of  the  Nonconformist  stock  —  really 
had  nothing  but  wealth  and  rectitude,  and 
I  think  my  brother  Bob,  in  his  genuine 
love  for  her,  was  willing  to  overlook  the 
latter  for  the  sake  of  the  former. 

My  pretty  sister-in-law's  interest  in  my 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  5 

affairs  always  made  me  believe  that  she 
secretly  worshiped  me  —  although  it  was 
a  fact,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  progress  of 
this  story,  that  most  women  blushed  on 
my  addressing  them.  I  used  to  say  it 
"  was  the  reflection  of  my  red  hair  on  a 
transparent  complexion/'  which  was  rather 
neat  —  was  n't  it  ?  And  subtle  ?  But 
then,  I  was  always  saying  such  subtle 
things. 

"  My  dear  Rose/'  I  said,  laying  down 
my  egg  spoon  (the  egg  spoon  really  had 
nothing  to  do  with  this  speech,  but  it 
imparted  such  a  delightfully  realistic  fla 
vor  to  the  scene),  "  I  'm  not  to  blame  if  I 
resemble  the  S'helpburgs." 

"  It 's  your  being  so  beastly  proud  of 
it  that  I  object  to  !  "  she  replied.  "  And 
for  Heaven's  sake,  try  to  be  something, 
and  not  merely  resemble  things!  The 
fact  is  you  resemble  too  much  —  you  're 
always  resembling.  You  resemble  a  man 
of  fashion,  and  you  're  not ;  a  wit,  and 


6  KUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

you  're  not ;  a  soldier,  a  sportsman,  a 
hero  —  and  you  're  none  of  'em.  Al 
together,  you  're  not  in  the  least  con 
vincing.  Now,  listen  !  There  's  a  good 
chance  for  you  to  go  as  our  attache  with 
Lord  Mumblepeg,  the  new  Ambassador  to 
Cochin  China.  In  all  the  novels,  you 
know,  attaches  are  always  the  confidants 
of  Grand  Duchesses,  and  know  more  state 
secrets  than  their  chiefs  ;  in  real  life,  I 
believe  they  are  something  like  a  city 
clerk  with  a  leaning  to  private  theatricals. 
Say  you  '11  go  !  Do  !  " 

"  I  '11  take  a  few  months'  holiday 
first,"  I  replied,  "  and  then,"  I  added  in 
my  gay,  dashing  way,  "  if  the  place  is 
open  —  hang  it  if  I  don't  go  !  " 

"  Good  old  bounder  !  "  she  said,  "  and 
don't  think  too  much  of  that  precious 
Prince  Rupert.  He  was  a  bad  lot." 

She  blushed  again  at  me  ^-  as  her  hus 
band  entered. 

"  Take  Rose's  advice,  Rupert,  my  boy," 
he  said,  "  and  go  !  " 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  7 

And  that  is  how  I  came  to  go  to  Truly- 
ruralania.  For  I  secretly  resolved  to  take 
my  holiday  in  traveling  in  that  country 
and  trying,  as  dear  Lady  Burleydon  put 
it,  really  to  be  somebody,  instead  of  re 
sembling  anybody  in  particular.  A  pre 
cious  lot  she  knew  about  it ! 


CHAPTER  II 

IN    WHICH    MY    HAIR    CAUSES    A    LOT    OF 

l        \ 

THINGS 

You  go  to  Truly ruralania  from  Char 
ing  Cross.  In  passing  through  Paris  we 
picked  up  Mile.  Beljambe,  who  was  going 
to  Kohlslau,  the  capital  of  Trulyrural- 
ania,  to  marry  the  Grand  Duke  Michael, 
who,  however,  as  I  was  informed,  was 
in  love  with  the  Princess  Flirtia.  She 
blushed  on  seeing  me  —  but,  I  was  told 
afterwards,  declined  being  introduced  to 
me  on  any  account.  However,  I  thought 
nothing  of  this,  and  went  on  to  Bock,  the 
next  station  to  Kohlslau.  At  the  little 
inn  in  the  forest  I  was  informed  I  was 
just  in  time  to  see  the  coronation  of  the 
new  king  the  next  day.  The  landlady 
and  her  daughter  were  very  communica- 


RUPERT  THE   RESEMBLER  9 

tive,  and,  after  the  fashion  of  the  simple, 
guileless  stage  peasant,  instantly  informed 
me  what  everybody  was  doing,  and  at 
once  explained  the  situation.  She  told 
me  that  the  Grand  Duke  Michael  —  or 
Black  Michael  as  he  was  called  —  him 
self  aspired  to  the  throne,  as  well  as  to 
the  hand  of  the  Princess  Flirtia,  but  was 
hated  by  the  populace,  who  preferred  the 
young  heir,  Prince  Rupert ;  because  he 
had  the  hair  and  features  of  the  dynasty 
of  the  S'helpburgs,  "  which,"  she  added, 
"  are  singularly  like  your  own." 

"  But  is  red  hair  so  very  peculiar  here  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Among  the  Jews  —  yes,  sire  !  I  mean 
yes,  sir,"  she  corrected  herself.  "  You 
seldom  see  a  red-headed  Jew." 

"  The  Jews ! "  I  repeated  in  astonish 
ment. 

"  Of  course  you  know  the  S'helpburgs 
are  descended  directly  from  Solomon  — 
and  have  indeed  some  of  his  matrimonial 
peculiarities,"  she  said,  blushing. 


10  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

I  was  amazed  —  but  recalled  myself. 
"  But  why  do  they  call  the  Duke  of 
Kohlslau  Black  Michael?"  I  asked  care 
lessly. 

"  Because  he  is  nearly  black,  sir.  You 
see,  when  the  great  Prince  Rupert  went 
abroad  in  the  old  time  he  visited  England, 
Scotland,  and  Africa.  They  say  he  mar 
ried  an  African  lady  there  —  and  that  the 
Duke  is  really  more  in  the  direct  line  of 
succession  than  Prince  Rupert." 

But  here  the  daughter  showed  me  to 
my  room.  She  blushed,  of  course,  and 
apologized  for  not  bringing  a  candle,  as 
she  thought  my  hair  was  sufficiently  illu 
minating.  "  But,"  she  added  with  another 
blush,  « I  do  so  like  it." 

I  replied  by  giving  her  something 
of  no  value,  —  a  Belgian  nickel  which 
would  n't  pass  in  Bock,  as  I  had  found 
to  my  cost.  But  my  hair  had  evidently 
attracted  attention  from  others,  for  on  my 
return  to  the  guest-room  a  stranger  ap- 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  11 

preached  me,  and  in  the  purest  and  most 
precise  German  —  the  Court  or  'Olland 
Hof  speech  —  addressed  me  : 

"  Have  you  the  red  hair  of  the  fair 
King  or  the  hair  of  your  father  ?  " 

Luckily  I  was  able  to  reply  with  the 
same  purity  and  precision  :  "  I  have  both 
the  hair  of  the  fair  King  and  my  own. 
But  I  have  not  the  hair  of  my  father  nor 
of  Black  Michael,  nor  of  the  innkeeper 
nor  the  innkeeper's  wife.  The  red  heir 
of  the  fair  King  would  be  a  son." 

Possibly  this  delicate  mot  on  the  ap 
proaching  marriage  of  the  King  was  lost 
in  the  translation,  for  the  stranger  strode 
abruptly  away.  I  learned,  however,  that 
the  King  was  actually  then  in  Bock,  at 
the  castle  a  few  miles  distant,  in  the 
woods.  I  resolved  to  stroll  thither. 

It  was  a  fine  old  mediaeval  structure. 
But  as  the  singular  incidents  I  am  about 
to  relate  combine  the  romantic  and  ad 
venturous  atmosphere  of  the  middle  ages 


12  RUPERT  THE   RESEMBLER 

with  all  the  appliances  oi  modern  times,  I 
may  briefly  state  that  the  castle  was  lit  by 
electricity,  had  fire-escapes  on  each  of  the 
turrets,  four  lifts,  and  was  fitted  up  by 
one  of  the  best  West  End  establishments. 
The  sanitary  arrangements  were  excellent, 
and  the  drainage  of  the  most  perfect  order, 
as  I  had  reason  to  know  personally  later. 
I  was  so  affected  by  the  peaceful  solitude 
that  I  lay  down  under  a  tree  and  presently 
fell  asleep.  I  was  awakened  by  the  sound 
of  voices,  and,  looking  up,  beheld  two  men 
bending  over  me.  One  was  a  grizzled 
veteran,  and  the  other  a  younger  dandy 
fied  man  ;  both  were  dressed  in  shooting 
suits. 

"  Never  saw  such  a  resemblance  before 
in  all  my  life,"  said  the  elder  man.  "  Ton 
my  soul !  if  the  King  had  n't  got  shaved 
yesterday  because  the  Princess  Flirtia 
said  his  beard  tickled  her,  I  'd  swear  it 
was  he  !  " 

I  could  not  help  thinking  how  lucky 


RUPERT  THE   RESEMBLER  13 

it  was  —  for  this  narrative  —  that  the 
King  had  shaved,  otherwise  my  story 
would  have  degenerated  into  a  mere  Com 
edy  of  Errors.  Opening  my  eyes,  I  said 
boldly  : 

"  Now  that  you  are  satisfied  who  I  re 
semble,  gentlemen,  perhaps  you  will  tell 
me  who  you  are  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  elder  curtly.  "  I 
am  Spitz  —  a  simple  colonel  of  his  Majes 
ty's,  yet,  nevertheless,  the  one  man  who 
runs  this  whole  dynasty  —  and  this  young 
gentleman  is  Fritz,  my  lieutenant.  And 
you  are ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Razorbill  —  brother  to 
Lord  Burleydon,"  I  replied  calmly. 

"  Good  heavens  !  another  of  the  lot !  " 
he  muttered.  Then,  correcting  himself, 
he  said  brusquely :  "  Any  relation  to  that 
Englishwoman  who  was  so  sweet  on  the 
old  Rupert  centuries  ago  ?  " 

Here,  again,  I  suppose  my  sister-in-law 
would  have  had  me  knock  down  the  foreign 


14  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

insulter  of  my  English  ancestress  —  but  I 
colored  to  the  roots  of  my  hair,  and  even 
farther  —  with  pleasure  at  this  proof  of 
my  royal  descent !  And  then  a  cheery 
voice  was  heard  calling  "  Spitz ! "  and 
"  Fritz !  "  through  the  woods. 

"The  King!"  said  Spitz  to  Fritz 
quickly.  "  He  must  not  see  him." 

"  Too  late/'  said  Fritz,  as  a  young  man 
bounded  lightly  out  of  the  bushes. 

I  was  thunderstruck  !  It  was  as  if  I 
had  suddenly  been  confronted  with  a  mir 
ror  —  and  beheld  myself  !  X0f  course  he 
was  not  quite  so  good-looking,  or  so  tall, 
but  he  was  still  a  colorable  imitation !  I 
was  delighted. 

Nevertheless,  for  a  moment  he  did  not 
seem  to  reciprocate  my  feeling.  He  stared 
at  me,  staggered  back  and  passed  his  hand 
across  his  forehead.  "  Can  it  be,"  he 
muttered  thickly,  "  that  I  've  got  'em 
agin  ?  Yet  I  only  had — shingle  glash !  " 

But  Fritz  quickly  interposed. 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  15 

"  Your  Majesty  is  all  right  —  though/' 
he  added  in  a  lower  voice,  "  let  this  be  a 
warning  to  you  for  to-morrow !  This 
gentleman  is  Mr.  Razorbill  —  you  know 
the  old  story  of  the  Razorbills  ?  —  Ha ! 
ha!" 

But  the  King  did  not  laugh ;  he  ex 
tended  his  hand  and  said  gently,  "  You 
are  welcome  —  my  cousin  !  "  Indeed, 
my  sister-in-law  would  have  probably  said 
that  —  dissipated  though  he  was  —  he 
was  the  only  gentleman  there. 

"  I  have  come  to  see  the  coronation, 
your  Majesty,"  I  said. 

"  And  you  shall,"  said  the  King  heart 
ily,  "  and  shall  go  with  us  !  The  show 
can't  begin  without  us — eh,  Spitz?"  he 
added  playfully,  poking  the  veteran  in  the 
ribs,  "  whatever  Michael  may  do  !  " 

Then  he  linked  his  arms  in  Spitz's  and 
mine.  "  Let 's  go  to  the  hut  —  and  have 
some  supper  and  fizz,"  he  said  gayly. 

We  went  to  the  hut.     We  had  supper. 


16  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

We  ate  and  drank  heavily.  We  danced 
madly  around  the  table.  Nevertheless  I 
thought  that  Spitz  and  Fritz  were  worried 
by  the  King's  potations,  and  Spitz  at  last 
went  so  far  as  to  remind  his  Majesty  that 
they  were  to  start  early  in  the  morning  for 
Kohlslau.  I  noticed  also  that  as  the  King 
drank  his  speech  grew  thicker  and  Spitz 
and  Fritz  exchanged  glances.  At  last 
Spitz  said  with  stern  significance  : 

"  Your  Majesty  has  not  forgotten  the 
test  invariably  submitted  to  the  King  at 
his  coronation  ?  " 

"Shertenly  not/'  replied  the  King, 
with  his  reckless  laugh.  "  The  King 
mush  be  able  to  pronounsh  —  name  of 
his  country  —  intel-lillil-gibly  :  mush  shay 
(hie  !)  :  <  I'm  King  of  —  King  of  —  Too- 
too-tooral-looral-anyer.' '  He  staggered, 
laughed,  and  fell  under  the  table. 

"  He  cannot  say  it !  "  gasped  Fritz  and 
Spitz  in  one  voice.  "  He  is  lost !  " 

"  Unless,"  said  Fritz  suddenly,  pointing 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  17 

at  me  with  a  flash  of  intelligence,  "  he 
can  personate  him,  and  say  it.  Can  you  ?  " 
he  turned  to  me  brusquely. 

It  was  an  awful  moment.  I  had  been 
drinking  heavily  too,  but  I  resolved  to 
succeed.  "  I  'm  King  of  Trooly-rooly 
I  murmured ;  but  I  could  not 
master  it  —  I  staggered  and  followed  the 
King  under  the  table. 

"  Is  there  no  one  here,"  roared  Spitz, 
"  who  can  shave  thish  dynasty,  and  shay 
<Tooral-  -'?  No!-  -it!  I  mean 

'  Trularlooral '  "  but  he,  too,  lurched 

hopelessly  forward. 

"  No  one  can  say  '  Tooral-looral ' 

muttered  Fritz  ;  and,  grasping  Spitz  in 
despair,  they  both  rolled  under  the  table. 

How  long  we  lay  there,  Heaven  knows  ! 
I  was  awakened  by  Spitz  playing  the 
garden  hose  on  me.  He  was  booted  and 
spurred,  with  Fritz  by  his  side.  The 
King  was  lying  on  a  bench,  saying  feebly  : 
"  Blesh  you,  my  chillen." 


18  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

"  By  politely  acceding  to  Black  Mi 
chael's  request  to  ( try  our  one-and-six 
sherry/  he  has  been  brought  to  this  con 
dition,"  said  Spitz  bitterly.  "  It 's  a  trick 
to  keep  him  from  being  crowned.  In  this 
country  if  the  King  is  crowned  while 
drunk,  the  kingdom  instantly  reverts  to  a 
villain  —  no  matter  who.  But  in  this 
case  the  villain  is  Black  Michael.  Ha  ! 
What  say  you,  lad  ?  Shall  we  frustrate 
the  rascal,  by  having  you  personate  the 
King  ?  " 

I  was  —  well !  —  intoxicated  at  the 
thought !  But  what  would  my  sister-in- 
law  say  ?  Would  she  —  in  her  Noncon 
formist  conscience  —  consider  it  strictly 
honorable?  But  I  swept  all  scruples 
aside.  A  King  was  to  be  saved  !  "  I 
will  go,"  I  said.  "  Let  us  on  to  Kohls- 
lau  —  riding  like  the  wind  !  "  We  rode 
like  the  wind,  furiously,  madly.  Mounted 
on  a  wild,  dashing  bay  —  known  famil 
iarly  as  the  "  Bay  of  Biscay "  from  its 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  19 

rough  turbulence  —  I  easily  kept  the  lead. 
But  our  horses  began  to  fail.  Suddenly 
Spitz  halted,  clapped  his  hand  to  his 
head,  and  threw  himself  from  his  horse. 
"  Fools !  "  he  said,  "  we  should  have 
taken  the  train  !  It  will  get  there  an 
hour  before  we  will !  "  He  pointed  to  a 
wayside  station  where  the  7.15  excursion 
train  for  Kohlslau  was  waiting. 

"  But  how  dreadfully  unmediseval !  — 
What  will  the  public  say  ?  "  I  began. 

"  Bother  the  public  !  "  he  said  gruffly. 
"  Who  's  running  this  dynasty  —  you  or 
I  ?  Come  !  "  With  the  assistance  of  Fritz 
he  tied  up  my  face  with  a  handkerchief 
to  simulate  toothache,  and  then,  with  a 
shout  of  defiance,  we  three  rushed  madly 
into  a  closely  packed  third-class  carriage. 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  perils,  the  fa 
tigue,  the  hopes  and  fears  of  that  mad 
journey.  Panting,  perspiring,  packed  to 
gether  with  cheap  trippers,  but  exalted 
with  the  one  hope  of  saving  the  King,  we 


20  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

at  last  staggered  out  on  the  Kohlslau 
platform  utterly  exhausted.  As  we  did 
so  we  heard  a  distant  roar  from  the  city. 
Fritz  turned  an  ashen  gray,  Spitz  a  livid 
blue.  "  Are  we  too  late  ?  "  he  gasped,  as 
we  madly  fought  our  way  into  the  street, 
where  shouts  of  "  The  King  !  The  King !  " 
were  rending  the  air.  "  Can  it  be  Black 
Michael?"  But  here  the  crowd  parted, 
and  a  procession,  preceded  by  outriders, 
flashed  into  the  square.  And  there,  seated 
in  a  carriage  beside  the  most  beautiful 
red-haired  girl  I  had  ever  seen,  was  the 
King,  —  the  King  whom  we  had  left  two 
hours  ago,  dead  drunk  in  the  hut  in  the 
forest ! 


CHAPTEKS   III  TO  XXII   (Inclusive) 

IN    WHICH    THINGS    GET    MIXED 

WE  reeled  against  each  other  aghast ! 
Spitz  recovered  himself  first.  "  We  must 
fly  !  "  he  said  hoarsely.  "  If  the  King 
has  discovered  our  trick  —  we  are  lost !  " 

"  But  where  shall  we  go  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Back  to  the  hut." 

We  caught  the  next  train  to  Bock. 
An  hour  later  we  stood  panting  within 
the  hut.  Its  walls  and  ceiling  were  splashed 
with  sinister  red  stains.  "  Blood  1  "  I  ex 
claimed  joyfully.  "  At  last  we  have  a  real 
mediaeval  adventure  !  " 

"It's  Burgundy,  you  fool,"  growled 
Spitz  ;  "  good  Burgundy  wasted  !  "  At 
this  moment  Fritz  appeared  dragging  in 
the  hut-keeper. 

"Where   is    the    King?"    demanded 


22  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

Spitz  fiercely  of  the  trembling  peas 
ant. 

"  He  was  carried  away  an  hour  ago  by 
Black  Michael  and  taken  to  the  castle." 

"  And  when  did  he  leave  the  castle  ?  " 
roared  Spitz. 

"He  never  left  the  castle,  sir,  and,  alas  ! 
I  fear  never  will,  alive  !  "  replied  the  man, 
shuddering. 

We  stared  at  each  other  !  Spitz  bit  his 
grizzled  mustache.  "  So,"  he  said  bit 
terly,  "  Black  Michael  has  simply  antici 
pated  us  with  the  same  game  !  We  have 
been  tricked.  I  knew  it  could  not  be 
the  King  whom  they  crowned  !  No  !  " 
he  added  quickly,  "  I  see  it  all  —  it  was 
Rupert  of  Glasgow  !  " 

"  Who  is  Rupert  of  Glasgow  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  Oh,  I  really  can't  go  over  all  that 
family  rot  again,"  grunted  Spitz.  "  Tell 
him,  Fritz." 

Then,  taking  me  aside,  Fritz  delicately 
informed  me  that  Rupert  of  Glasgow  — 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  23 

a  young  Scotchman  —  claimed  equally 
with  myself  descent  from  the  old  Rupert, 
and  that  equally  with  myself  he  resembled 
the  King.  That  Michael  had  got  posses 
sion  of  him  on  his  arrival  in  the  country, 
kept  him  closely  guarded  in  the  castle, 
and  had  hid  his  resemblance  in  a  black 
wig  and  false  mustache  ;  that  the  young 
Scotchman,  however,  seemed  apparently 
devoted  to  Michael  and  his  plots  ;  and 
there  was  undoubtedly  some  secret  un 
derstanding  between  them.  That  it  was 
evidently  Michael's  trick  to  have  the  pre 
tender  crowned,  and  then,  by  exposing 
the  fraud  and  the  condition  of  the  real 
King,  excite  the  indignation  of  the  duped 
people,  and  seat  himself  on  the  throne  ! 
"  But/'  I  burst  out,  "  shall  this  base-born 
pretender  remain  at  Kohlslau  beside  the 
beautiful  Princess  Flirtia  ?  Let  us  to 
Kohlslau  at  once  and  hurl  him  from  the 
throne  ! " 

"  One  pretender  is  as  good  as  another," 


24  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

said  Spitz  dryly.  "  But  leave  him  to  me. 
'T  is  the  King  we  must  protect  and  suc 
cor  !  As  for  that  Scotch  springald,  before 
midnight  I  shall  have  him  kidnaped, 
brought  back  to  his  master  in  a  close  car 
riage,  and  you  —  you  shall  take  his  place 
at'Kohlslau." 

"  I  will/'  I  said  enthusiastically,  draw 
ing  my  sword ;  "  but  I  have  done  nothing 
yet.  Please  let  me  kill  something  !  " 

"  Aye,  lad  ! "  said  Spitz,  with  a  grim 
smile  at  my  enthusiasm.  "  There 's  a 
sheep  in  your  path.  Go  out  and  cleave  it 
to  the  saddle.  And  bring  the  saddle 
home  !  " 

My  sister-in-law  might  have  thought 
me  cruel  —  but  I  did  it. 


CHAP  XXIII  AND   SOME  OTHER 
CHAPS 

I  KNOW  not  how  it  was  compassed,  but 
that  night  Rupert  of  Glasgow  was  left 
bound  and  gagged  against  the  door  of  the 
castle,  and  the  night-bell  pulled.  And 
that  night  I  was  seated  on  the  throne  of 
the  S'helpburgs.  As  I  gazed  at  the  Prin 
cess  Flirtia,  glowing  in  the  characteristic 
beauty  of  the  S'helpburgs,  and  admired 
her  striking  profile,  I  murmured  softly  and 
half  audibly :  "  Her  nose  is  as  a  tower  that 
looketh  toward  Damascus." 

She  looked  puzzled,  and  knitted  her 
pretty  brows.  "  Is  that  poetry  ? "  she 
asked. 

"No,"  I  said  promptly.  "It's  only 
part  of  a  song  of  our  great  Ancestor." 
As  she  blushed  slightly,  I  playfully  flung 
around  her  fair  neck  the  jeweled  collar 


26  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

of  the  Order  of  the  S'helpburgs  —  three 
golden  spheres  pendant,  quartered  from 
the  arms  of  Lombardy  —  with  the  ancient 
Syric  motto,  El  Ess  Dee. 

She  toyed  with  it  a  moment,  and  then 
said  softly :  "  You  have  changed,  Rupert. 
Do  ye  no  ken  hoo  ?  " 

I  looked  at  her  —  as  surprised  at  her 
dialect  as  at  the  imputation. 

"  You  don't  talk  that  way,  as  you  did. 
And  you  don't  say,  'It  will  be  twelve 
o'clock,'  when  you  mean,  'It  is  twelve 
o'clock,'  nor  '  I  will  be  going  out,'  when 
you  mean  'I  am.9  And  you  didn't  say, 
6  Eh,  sirs  ! '  or  '  Eh,  mon,'  to  any  of  the 
Court  —  nor  '  Hoot  awa  !  '  nor  any  of 
those  things.  And,"  she  added  with  a 
divine  little  pout,  "  you  have  n't  told  me 
I  was  '  sonsie '  or  '  bonnie  '  once." 

I  could  with  difficulty  restrain  myself. 
Rage,  indignation,  and  jealousy  filled  my 
heart  almost  to  bursting.  I  understood 
it  all ;  that  rascally  Scotchman  had  made 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  27 

the  most  of  his  time,  and  dared  to  get 
ahead  of  me  !  I  did  not  mind  being  taken 
for  the  King,  but  to  be  confounded  with 
this  infernal  descendant  of  a  gamekeeper 
—  was  too  much  !  Yet  with  a  superhuman 
effort  I  remained  calm  —  and  even  smiled. 

"  You  are  not  well  ?  "  said  the  Princess 
earnestly.  "  I  thought  you  were  taking 
too  much  of  the  Strasbourg  pie  at  sup 
per  !  And  you  are  not  going,  surely  — 
so  soon  ?  "  she  added,  as  I  rose. 

"  I  must  go  at  once,"  I  said.  "  I  have 
forgotten  some  important  business  at 
Bock." 

"  Not  boar  hunting  again  ?  "  she  said 
poutingly. 

"  No,  I  'm  hunting  a  red  dear,"  I  said 
with  that  playful  subtlety  which  would 
make  her  take  it  as  a  personal  compli 
ment,  though  I  was  only  thinking  of  that 
impostor,  and  longing  to  get  at  him,  as  I 
bowed  and  withdrew. 

In  another  hour  I  was  before  Black 


28  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

Michael's  castle  at  Bock.  These  are  light 
ning  changes,  I  know  —  and  the  sover 
eignty  of  Trulyruralania  was  somewhat 
itinerant  —  but  when  a  kingdom  and  a 
beautiful  Princess  are  at  stake,  what  are 
you  to  do  ?  Fritz  had  begged  me  to  take 
him  along,  but  I  arranged  that  he  should 
come  later,  and  go  up  unostentatiously  in 
the  lift.  I  was  going  by  way  of  the  moat. 
I  was  to  succor  the  King,  but  I  fear  my 
real  object  was  to  get  at  Rupert  of  Glas 
gow. 

I  had  noticed  the  day  before  that  a 
large  outside  drain  pipe,  decreed  by  the 
Bock  County  Council,  ran  from  the  moat 
to  the  third  floor  of  the  donjon  keep.  I 
surmised  that  the  King  was  imprisoned  on 
that  floor.  Examining  the  pipe  closely,  I 
saw  that  it  was  really  a  pneumatic  dispatch 
tube,  for  secretly  conveying  letters  and 
dispatches  from  the  castle  through  the 
moat  beyond  the  castle  walls.  Its  extraor 
dinary  size,  however,  gave  me  the  hor- 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  29 

rible  conviction  that  it  was  to  be  used  to 
convey  the  dead  body  of  the  King  to  the 
moat.  I  grew  cold  with  horror  —  but  I 
was  determined. 

I  crept  up  the  pipe.  As  I  expected,  it 
opened  funnel-wise  into  a  room  where  the 
poor  King  was  playing  poker  with  Black 
Michael.  It  took  me  but  a  moment  to 
dash  through  the  window  into  the  room, 
push  the  King  aside,  gag  and  bind  Black 
Michael,  and  lower  him  by  a  stout  rope 
into  the  pipe  he  had  destined  for  another. 
Having  him  in  my  power,  I  lowered  him 
until  I  heard  his  body  splash  in  the  water 
in  the  lower  part  of  the  pipe.  Then  I 
proceeded  to  draw  him  up  again,  intend 
ing  to  question  him  in  regard  to  Rupert 
of  Glasgow.  But  this  was  difficult,  as  his 
saturated  clothing  made  him  fit  the  smooth 
pipe  closely.  At  last  I  had  him  partly 
up,  when  I  was  amazed  at  a  rush  of  water 
from  the  pipe  which  flooded  the  room.  I 
dropped  him  and  pulled  him  up  again 


30  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

with  the  same  result.  Then  in  a  flash  I 
saw  it  all.  His  body,  acting  like  a  pis 
ton  in  the  pipe,  had  converted  it  into  a 
powerful  pump.  Mad  with  joy,  I  rapidly 
lowered  and  pulled  him  up  again  and 
again,  until  the  castle  was  flooded  —  and 
the  moat  completely  drained  !  I  had  cre 
ated  the  diversion  I  wished ;  the  tenants 
of  the  castle  were  disorganized  and  be 
wildered  in  trying  to  escape  from  the 
deluge,  and  the  moat  was  accessible  to 
my  friends.  Placing  the  poor  King  on  a 
table  to  be  out  of  the  water,  and  tying 
up  his  head  in  my  handkerchief  to  dis 
guise  him  from  Michael's  guards,  I  drew 
my  sword  and  plunged  downstairs  with 
the  cataract  in  search  of  the  miscreant 
Rupert.  I  reached  the  drawbridge,  when 
I  heard  the  sounds  of  tumult  and  was 
twice  fired  at,  —  once,  as  I  have  since 
learned,  by  my  friends,  under  the  impres 
sion  that  I  was  the  escaping  Rupert  of 
Glasgow,  and  once  by  Black  Michael's 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  31 

myrmidons,  under  the  belief  that  I  was 
the  King.  I  was  struck  by  the  fact  that 
these  resemblances  were  confusing  and 
unfortunate  !  At  this  moment,  however, 
I  caught  sight  of  a  kilted  figure  leaping 
from  a  lower  window  into  the  moat.  Some 
instinct  impelled  me  to  follow  it.  It  rap 
idly  crossed  the  moat  and  plunged  into 
the  forest,  with  me  in  pursuit.  I  gained 
upon  it ;  suddenly  it  turned,  and  I  found 
myself  again  confronted  with  myself — 
and  apparently  the  King  !  But  that  very 
resemblance  made  me  recognize  the  Scotch 
pretender,  Rupert  of  Glasgow.  Yet  he 
would  have  been  called  a  "  braw  laddie," 
and  his  handsome  face  showed  a  laughing 
good  humor,  even  while  he  opposed  me, 
claymore  in  hand. 

"  Bide  a  wee,  Maister  Rupert  Razorbill," 
he  said  lightly,  lowering  his  sword,  "  be 
fore  we  slit  ane  anither's  weasands.  I  'm 
no  claimin'  any  descent  frae  kings,  and 
I  'm  no  acceptin'  any  auld  wife's  clavers 


32  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

against  my  women  forbears,  as  ye  are  ! 
I  'm  just  paid  gude  honest  siller  by  Black 
Michael  for  the  using  of  ma  face  and  fig 
ure  —  sic  time  as  his  Majesty  is  tae  worse 
f rae  trink  !  And  I  'm  commeesioned  frae 
Michael  to  ask  ye  what  price  ye  would 
take  to  join  me  in  performing  these  duties 
—  turn  and  turn  aboot.  Eh,  laddie  — 
but  he  would  pay  ye  mair  than  that  daft 
beggar,  Spitz." 

Rage  and  disgust  overpowered  me. 
"  And  this  is  my  answer,"  I  said,  rushing 
upon  him. 

I  have  said  earlier  in  these  pages  that 
I  was  a  "  strong  "  swordsman.  In  point 
of  fact,  I  had  carefully  studied  in  the 
transpontine  theatres  that  form  of  melo 
dramatic  mediaeval  sword-play  known  as 
"two  up  and  two  down."  To  my  disgust, 
however,  this  wretched  Scotchman  did  not 
seem  to  understand  it,  but  in  a  twinkling 
sent  my  sword  flying  over  my  head.  Be 
fore  I  could  recover  it,  he  had  mounted  a 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  33 

horse  ready  saddled  in  the  wood,  and, 
shouting  to  me  that  he  would  take  my 
"  complements  "  to  the  Princess,  galloped 
away.  Even  then  I  would  have  pursued 
him  afoot,  but,  hearing  shouts  behind  me, 
I  turned  as  Spitz  and  Fritz  rode  up. 

"  Has  the  King  escaped  to  Kohlslau  ?  " 
asked  Fritz,  staring  at  me. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  but  Rupert  of  Glas 
gow  "  — 

" Rupert  of  Glasgow,"  growled 

Spitz.  "We've  settled  him!  He's 
gagged  and  bound  and  is  now  on  his  way 
to  the  frontier  in  a  close  carriage." 

"  Rupert  —  on  his  way  to  the  frontier  ?  " 
I  gasped. 

"  Yes.  Two  of  my  men  found  him, 
disguised  with  a  handkerchief  over  his 
face,  trying  to  escape  from  the  castle. 
And  while  we  were  looking  for  the  King, 
whom  we  supposed  was  with  you,  they 
have  sent  the  rascally  Scotchman  home." 

"  Fool !  "  I  gasped.     "  Rupert  of  Glas- 


34  RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER 

gow  has  just  left  me  !  You  have  deported 
your  own  King."  And  overcome  by  my 
superhuman  exertions,  I  sank  unconscious 
to  the  ground. 

When  I  came  to,  I  found  myself  in  a 
wagon  lit,  speeding  beyond  the  Trulyru- 
ralania  frontier.  On  my  berth  was  lying 
a  missive  with  the  seal  of  the  S'helpburgs. 
Tearing  it  open  I  recognized  the  hand 
writing  of  the  Princess  Flirtia. 

MY  DEAR  RUPERT,  —  Owing  to  the 
confusion  that  arises  from  there  being  so 
many  of  you,  I  have  concluded  to  accept 
the  hand  of  the  Duke  Michael.  I  may 
not  become  a  Queen,  but  I  shall  bring 
rest  to  my  country,  and  Michael  assures 
me  in  his  playful  manner  that  "  three  of 
a  kind,"  "  even  of  the  same  color,"  do  not 
always  win  at  poker.  It  will  tranquilize 
you  somewhat  to  know  that  the  Lord 
Chancellor  assures  me  that  on  examining 
the  records  of  the  dynasty  he  finds  that 


RUPERT  THE  RESEMBLER  35 

my  ancestor  Rupert  never  left  his  kingdom 
during  his  entire  reign-,  and  that  conse 
quently  your  ancestress  has  been  grossly 
maligned.  I  am  sending  typewritten 
copies  of  this  to  Rupert  of  Glasgow  and 
the  King.  Farewell. 

FLIRTIA. 

Once  a  year,  at  Christmastide,  I  receive 
a  simple  foreign  hamper  via  Charing 
Cross,  marked  "  Return  empty."  I  take 
it  in  silence  to  my  own  room,  and  there, 
opening  it,  I  find  —  unseen  by  any  other 
eyes  but  my  own  —  a  modest  pate  de  foie 
gras,  of  the  kind  I  ate  with  the  Princess 
Flirtia.  I  take  out  the  pate,  replace  the 
label,  and  have  the  hamper  reconveyed  to 
Charing  Cross. 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

BY  A.  CO-N  D-LE 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

I  FOUND  Hemlock  Jones  in  the  old 
Brook  Street  lodgings,  musing  before  the 
fire.  With  the  freedom  of  an  old  friend 
I  at  once  threw  myself  in  my  usual  fa 
miliar  attitude  at  his  feet,  and  gently 
caressed  his  boot.  I  was  induced  to  do 
this  for  two  reasons :  one,  that  it  en 
abled  me  to  get  a  good  look  at  his  bent, 
concentrated  face,  and  the  other,  that  it 
seemed  to  indicate  my  reverence  for  his 
superhuman  insight.  So  absorbed  was 
he  even  then,  in  tracking  some  mysterious 
clue,  that  he  did  not  seem  to  notice  me. 
But  therein  I  was  wrong  —  as  I  always 
was  in  my  attempt  to  understand  that 
powerful  intellect. 

"  It  is  raining,"  he  said,  without  lifting  \ 
his  head. 


40  THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

"  You  have  been  out,  then  ? "  I  said 
quickly. 

"No.  But  I  see  that  your  umbrella  is 
wet,  and  that  your  overcoat  has  drops  of 
water  on  it." 

I  sat  aghast  at  his  penetration.  After 
a  pause  he  said  carelessly,  as  if  dismissing 
the  subject :  "  Besides,  I  hear  the  rain  on 
the  window.  Listen." 

I  listened.  I  could  scarcely  credit  my 
ears,  but  there  was  the  soft  pattering  of 
drops  on  the  panes.  It  was  evident  there 
was  no  deceiving  this  man  ! 

"  Have  you  been  busy  lately  ? "  I 
asked,  changing  the  subject.  "  What  new 
problem  —  given  up  by  Scotland  Yard  as 
inscrutable  —  has  occupied  that  gigantic 
intellect  ?  " 

He  drew  back  his  foot  slightly,  and 
seemed  to  hesitate  ere  he  returned  it  to 
its  original  position.  Then  he  answered 
wearily  :  "  Mere  trifles  —  nothing  to 
speak  of.  The  Prince  Kupoli  has  been 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  41 

here  to  get  my  advice  regarding  the  dis 
appearance  of  certain  rubies  from  the 
Kremlin  ;  the  Rajah  of  Pootibad,  after 
vainly  beheading  his  entire  bodyguard, 
has  been  obliged  to  seek  my  assistance  to 
recover  a  jeweled  sword.  The  Grand 
Duchess  of  Pretzel-Brauntswig  is  desirous 
of  discovering  where  her  husband  was 
on  the  night  of  February  14 ;  and  last 
night  "  —  he  lowered  his  voice  slightly 
—  "  a  lodger  in  this  very  house,  meeting 
me  on  the  stairs,  wanted  to  know  why 
they  did  n't  answer  his  bell." 

I  could  not  help  smiling  —  until  I  saw 
a  frown  gathering  on  his  inscrutable  fore 
head. 

"  Pray  remember,"  he  said  coldly, 
"  that  it  was  through  such  an  apparently 
trivial  question  that  I  found  out  Why. 
Paul  Ferroll  Killed  His  Wife,  and  What 
Happened  to  Jones  !  " 

I  became  dumb  at  once.  He  paused 
for  a  moment,  and  then  suddenly  chang- 


42  THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

ing  back  to  his  usual  pitiless,  analytical 
style,  he  said :  "  When  I  say  these  are 
trifles,  they  are  so  in  comparison  to  an 
affair  that  is  now  before  me.  A  crime 
has  been  committed,  —  and,  singularly 
enough,  against  myself.  You  start,"  he 
said.  "You  wonder  who  would  have 
dared  to  attempt  it.  So  did  I ;  never 
theless,  it  has  been  done.  /  have  been 
rolled!" 

"  You  robbed  !  You,  Hemlock  Jones, 
the  Terror  of  Peculators  !  "  I  gasped  in 
amazement,  arising  and  gripping  the  table 
as  I  faced  him. 

"  Yes !  Listen.  I  would  confess  it  to 
no  other.  But  you  who  have  followed 
my  career,  who  know  my  methods ;  you, 
for  whom  I  have  partly  lifted  the  veil 
that  conceals  my  plans  from  ordinary 
humanity,  —  you,  who  have  for  years 
rapturously  accepted  my  confidences,  pas 
sionately  admired  my  inductions  and  in 
ferences,  placed  yourself  at  my  beck  and 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  43 

call,  become  my  slave,  groveled  at  my 
feet,  given  up  your  practice  except  those 
few  unremunerative  and  rapidly  decreas 
ing  patients  to  whom,  in  moments  of 
abstraction  over  my  problems,  you  have 
administered  strychnine  for  quinine  and 
arsenic  for  Epsom  salts;  you,  who  have 
sacrificed  anything  and  everybody  to  me, 
—  you  I  make  my  confidant !  " 

I  arose  and  embraced  him  warmly,  yet 
he  was  already  so  engrossed  in  thought 
that  at  the  same  moment  he  mechanically 
placed  his  hand  upon  his  watch  chain  as 
if  to  consult  the  time.  "  Sit  down,"  he 
said.  "  Have  a  cigar  ?  " 

"  I  have  given  up  cigar  smoking,"  I  said. 

"  Why  ?  "  he  asked. 

I  hesitated,  and  perhaps  colored.  I  had 
really  given  it  up  because,  with  my  dimin 
ished  practice,  it  was  too  expensive.  I 
could  afford  only  a  pipe.  "  I  prefer  a 
pipe,"  I  said  laughingly.  "  But  tell  me 
of  this  robbery.  What  have  you  lost  ?  " 


44  THE   STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

He  arose,  and  planting  himself  before 
the  fire  with  his  hands  under  his  coat- 
tails,  looked  down  upon  me  reflectively 
for  a  moment.  "  Do  you  remember  the 
cigar  case  presented  to  me  by  the  Turkish 
Ambassador  for  discovering  the  missing 
favorite  of  the  Grand  Vizier  in  the  fifth 
chorus  girl  at  the  Hilarity  Theatre  ?  It 
was  that  one.  I  mean  the  cigar  case.  It 
was  incrusted  with  diamonds." 

"  And  the  largest  one  had  been  sup 
planted  by  paste/'  I  said. 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  with  a  reflective  smile, 
"  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  You  told  me  yourself.  I  remember 
considering  it  a  proof  of  your  extraordi 
nary  perception.  But,  by  Jove,  you  don't 
mean  to  say  you  have  lost  it  ?  " 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  No  ; 
it  has  been  stolen,  it  is  true,  but  I  shall 
still  find  it.  And  by  myself  alone  !  In 
your  profession,  my  dear  fellow,  when  a 
member  is  seriously  ill,  he  does  not  pre- 


THE  STOLEN   CIGAR  CASE  45 

scribe  for  himself,  but  calls  in  a  brother 
doctor.  Therein  we  differ.  I  shall  take 
this  matter  in  my  own  hands." 

"  And  where  could  you  find  better  ?  " 
I  said  enthusiastically.  "  I  should  say 
the  cigar  case  is  as  good  as  recovered 
already." 

"  I  shall  remind  you  of  that  again/'  he 
said  lightly.  "And  now,  to  show  you 
my  confidence  in  your  judgment,  in  spite 
of  my  determination  to  pursue  this  alone, 
I  am  willing  to  listen  to  any  suggestions 
from  you." 

He  drew  a  memorandum  book  from  his 
pocket  and,  with  a  grave  smile,  took  up 
his  pencil. 

I  could  scarcely  believe  my  senses.  He, 
the  great  Hemlock  Jones,  accepting  sug 
gestions  from  a  humble  individual  like 
myself !  I  kissed  his  hand  reverently,  and 
began  in  a  joyous  tone  : 

"  First,  I  should  advertise,  offering  a  re 
ward  ;  I  should  give  the  same  intimation 


46  THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

in  hand-bills,  distributed  at  the  '  pubs ' 
and  the  pastry-cooks'.  I  should  next 
visit  the  different  pawnbrokers  ;  I  should 
give  notice  at  the  police  station.  I  should 
examine  the  servants.  I  should  thor 
oughly  search  the  house  and  my  own 
pockets.  I  speak  relatively/'  I  added, 
with  a  laugh.  "  Of  course  I  mean  your 


own." 


He  gravely  made  an  entry  of  these 
details. 

"  Perhaps,"  I  added,  "  you  have  already 
done  this?" 

66  Perhaps,"  he  returned  enigmatically. 
"  Now,  my  dear  friend,"  he  continued, 
putting  the  note-book  in  his  pocket  and 
rising,  "  would  you  excuse  me  for  a  few 
moments  ?  Make  yourself  perfectly  at 
home  until  I  return ;  there  may  be  some 
things,"  he  added  with  a  sweep  of  his 
hand  toward  his  heterogeneously  filled 
shelves,  "  that  may  interest  you  and  while 
away  the  time.  There  are  pipes  and  to 
bacco  in  that  corner." 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  47 

Then  nodding  to  me  with  the  same 
inscrutable  face  he  left  the  room.  I  was 
too  well  accustomed  to  his  methods  to 
think  much  of  his  unceremonious  with 
drawal,  and  made  no  doubt  he  was  off  to 
investigate  some  clue  which  had  suddenly 
occurred  to  his  active  intelligence. 

Left  to  myself  I  cast  a  cursory  glance 
over  his  shelves.  There  were  a  number 
of  small  glass  jars  containing  earthy  sub 
stances,  labeled  "  Pavement  and  Road 
Sweepings,"  from  the  principal  thorough 
fares  and  suburbs  of  London,  with  the  sub- 
directions  "for  identifying  foot-tracks." 
There  were  several  other  jars,  labeled 
"Fluff  from  Omnibus  and  Road  Car 
Seats,"  "  Cocoanut  Fibre  and  Rope 
Strands  from  Mattings  in  Public  Places/' 
"  Cigarette  Stumps  and  Match  Ends  from 
Floor  of  Palace  Theatre,  Row  A,  1  to  50." 
Everywhere  were  evidences  of  this  won 
derful  man's  system  and  perspicacity. 

I  was  thus  engaged  when  I  heard  the 


48  THE   STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

slight  creaking  of  a  door,  and  I  looked  up 
as  a  stranger  entered.  He  was  a  rough- 
looking  man,  with  a  shabby  overcoat  and 
a  still  more  disreputable  muffler  around 
his  throat  and  the  lower  part  of  his  face. 
Considerably  annoyed  at  his  intrusion,  I 
turned  upon  him  rather  sharply,  when, 
with  a  mumbled,  growling  apology  for 
mistaking  the  room,  he  shuffled  out  again 
and  closed  the  door.  I  followed  him 
quickly  to  the  landing  and  saw  that  he 
disappeared  down  the  stairs.  With  my 
mind  full  of  the  robbery,  the  incident 
made  a  singular  impression  upon  me.  I 
knew  my  friend's  habit  of  hasty  absences 
from  his  room  in  his  moments  of  deep 
inspiration  ;  it  was  only  too  probable  that, 
with  his  powerful  intellect  and  magnificent 
perceptive  genius  concentrated  on  one 
subject,  he  should  be  careless  of  his  own 
belongings,  and  no  doubt  even  forget  to 
take  the  ordinary  precaution  of  locking 
up  his  drawers.  I  tried  one  or  two  and 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  49 

found  that  I  was  right,  although  for  some 
reason  I  was  unable  to  open  one  to  its 
fullest  extent.  The  handles  were  sticky, 
as  if  some  one  had  opened  them  with  dirty 
fingers.  Knowing  Hemlock's  fastidious 
cleanliness,  I  resolved  to  inform  him  of 
this  circumstance,  but  I  forgot  it,  alas ! 
until  —  but  I  am  anticipating  my  story. 

His  absence  was  strangely  prolonged. 
I  at  last  seated  myself  by  the  fire,  and 
lulled  by  warmth  and  the  patter  of  the 
rain  on  the  window,  I  fell  asleep.  I  may 
have  dreamt,  for  during  my  sleep  I  had 
a  vague  semi-consciousness  as  of  hands 
being  softly  pressed  on  my  pockets  —  no 
doubt  induced  by  the  story  of  the  rob 
bery.  When  I  came  fully  to  my  senses, 
I  found  Hemlock  Jones  sitting  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hearth,  his  deeply  con 
centrated  gaze  fixed  on  the  fire. 

66 1  found  you  so  comfortably  asleep 
that  I  could  not  bear  to  awaken  you,"  he 
said,  with  a  smile. 


50  THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

I  rubbed  my  eyes.  "  And  what  news  ?  " 
I  asked.  "  How  have  you  succeeded  ?  " 

"  Better  than  I  expected/'  he  said, 
"  and  I  think/'  he  added,  tapping  his 
note-book,  " I  owe  much  to  you" 

Deeply  gratified,  I  awaited  more.  But 
in  vain.  I  ought  to  have  remembered 
that  in  his  moods  Hemlock  Jones  was  reti 
cence  itself.  I  told  him  simply  of  the 
strange  intrusion,  but  he  only  laughed. 

Later,  when  I  arose  to  go,  he  looked  at 
me  playfully.  "  If  you  were  a  married 
man,"  he  said,  "  I  would  advise  you  not 
to  go  home  until  you  had  brushed  your 
sleeve.  There  are  a  few  short  brown 
sealskin  hairs  on  the  inner  side  of  your 
forearm,  just  where  they  would  have  ad 
hered  if  your  arm  had  encircled  a  seal 
skin  coat  with  some  pressure  !  " 

"  For  once  you  are  at  fault,"  I  said  tri 
umphantly  ;  "  the  hair  is  my  own,  as  you 
will  perceive ;  I  have  just  had  it  cut  at 
the  hairdresser's,  and  no  doubt  this  arm 
projected  beyond  the  apron." 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  51 

He  frowned  slightly,  yet,  nevertheless, 
on  my  turning  to  go  he  embraced  me 
warmly  —  a  rare  exhibition  in  that  man 
of  ice.  He  even  helped  me  on  with  my 
overcoat  and  pulled  out  and  smoothed 
down  the  flaps  of  my  pockets.  He  was 
particular,  too,  in  fitting  my  arm  in  my 
overcoat  sleeve,  shaking  the  sleeve  down 
from  the  armhole  to  the  cuff  with  his  deft 
fingers.  "  Come  again  soon  !  "  he  said, 
clapping  me  on  the  back. 

"  At  any  and  all  times,"  I  said  enthusi 
astically  ;  "  I  only  ask  ten  minutes  twice 
a  day  to  eat  a  crust  at  my  office,  and  four 
hours'  sleep  at  night,  and  the  rest  of  my 
time  is  devoted  to  you  always,  as  you 
know." 

"  It  is  indeed,"  he  said,  with  his  im 
penetrable  smile. 

Nevertheless,  I  did  not  find  him  at  home 
when  I  next  called.  One  afternoon,  when 
nearing  my  own  home,  I  met  him  in  one 
of  his  favorite  disguises,  —  a  long  blue 


52  THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

swallow-tailed  coat,  striped  cotton  trousers, 
large  turn-over  collar,  blacked  face,  and 
white  hat,  carrying  a  tambourine.  Of 
course  to  others  the  disguise  was  perfect, 
although  it  was  known  to  myself,  and  I 
passed  him  —  according  to  an  old  under 
standing  between  us  —  without  the  slight 
est  recognition,  trusting  to  a  later  expla 
nation.  At  another  time,  as  I  was  making 
a  professional  visit  to  the  wife  of  a  pub 
lican  at  the  East  End,  I  saw  him,  in  the 
disguise  of  a  broken-down  artisan,  looking 
into  the  window  of  an  adjacent  pawnshop. 
I  was  delighted  to  see  that  he  was  evi 
dently  following  my  suggestions,  and  in 
my  joy  I  ventured  to  tip  him  a  wink  ;  it 
was  abstractedly  returned. 

Two  days  later  I  received  a  note  ap 
pointing  a  meeting  at  his  lodgings  that 
night.  That  meeting,  alas  !  was  the  one 
memorable  occurrence  of  my  life,  and  the 
last  meeting  I  ever  had  with  Hemlock 
Jones  !  I  will  try  to  set  it  down  calmly, 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  53 

though  my  pulses  still  throb  with  the  re 
collection  of  it. 

I  found  him  standing  before  the  fire, 
with  that  look  upon  his  face  which  I  had 
seen  only  once  or  twice  in  our  acquaint 
ance  —  a  look  which  I  may  call  an  abso 
lute  concatenation  of  inductive  and  deduc 
tive  ratiocination  —  from  which  all  that 
was  human,  tender,  or  sympathetic  was 
absolutely  discharged.  He  was  simply  an 
icy  algebraic  symbol !  Indeed,  his  whole 
being  was  concentrated  to  that  extent  that 
his  clothes  fitted  loosely,  and  his  head  was 
absolutely  so  much  reduced  in  size  by  his 
mental  compression  that  his  hat  tipped 
back  from  his  forehead  and  literally  hung 
on  his  massive  ears. 

After  I  had  entered  he  locked  the  doors, 
fastened  the  windows,  and  even  placed  a 
chair  before  the  chimney.  As  I  watched 
these  significant  precautions  with  absorb 
ing  interest,  he  suddenly  drew  a  revolver 
and,  presenting  it  to  my  temple,  said  in 
low,  icy  tones  : 


64  THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

"  Hand  over  that  cigar  case  !  " 

Even  in  my  bewilderment  my  reply  was 
truthful,  spontaneous,  and  involuntary. 
"  I  have  n't  got  it,"  I  said. 

He  smiled  bitterly,  and  threw  down 
his  revolver.  "  I  expected  that  reply ! 
Then  let  me  now  confront  you  with  some 
thing  more  awful,  more  deadly,  more  re 
lentless  and  convincing  than  that  mere 
ethal  weapon,  —  the  damning  inductive 
and  deductive  proofs  of  your  guilt ! " 
He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  roll  of  paper 
and  a  note-book. 

"  But  surely,"  I  gasped,  "  you  are  jok 
ing  !  You  could  not  for  a  moment  be 
lieve  "  — 

"  Silence  !     Sit  down  !  "     I  obeyed. 

"  You  have  condemned  yourself,"  he 
went  on  pitilessly.  "  Condemned  yourself 
on  my  processes,  —  processes  familiar  to 
you,  applauded  by  you,  accepted  by  you 
for  years  !  We  will  go  back  to  the  time 
when  you  first  saw  the  cigar  case.  Your 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  55 

expressions/'  he  said  in  cold,  deliberate 
tones,  consulting  his  paper,  were,  '  How 
beautiful !  I  wish  it  were  mine.'  This 
was  your  first  step  in  crime  —  and  my 
first  indication.  From  '  I  toish  it  were 
mine  '  to  '  I  will  have  it  mine/  and  the 
mere  detail,  '  How  can  I  make  it  mine  ?  ' 
the  advance  was  obvious.  Silence  !  But 
as  in  my  methods  it  was  necessary  that 
there  should  be  an  overwhelming  induce 
ment  to  the  crime,  that  unholy  admiration 
of  yours  for  the  mere  trinket  itself  was 
not  enough.  You  are  a  smoker  of  cigars." 

"  But,"  I  burst  out  passionately,  "  I 
told  you  I  had  given  up  smoking  cigars." 

"  Fool !  "  he  said  coldly,  "  that  is  the 
second  time  you  have  committed  yourself. 
Of  course  you  told  me !  What  more  nat 
ural  than  for  you  to  blazon  forth  that 
prepared  and  unsolicited  statement  to 
prevent  accusation.  Yet,  as  I  said  before, 
even  that  wretched  attempt  to  cover  up 
your  tracks  was  not  enough.  I  still  had 


56  THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

to  find  that  overwhelming,  impelling  mo 
tive  necessary  to  affect  a  man  like  you. 
That  motive  I  found  in  the  strongest  of 
all  impulses  —  Love,  I  suppose  you  would 
call  it,"  he  added  bitterly,  "that  night 
you  called  !  You  had  brought  the  most 
conclusive  proofs  of  it  on  your  sleeve." 

"  But  —  "I  almost  screamed. 

"  Silence  !  "  he  thundered.  "  I  know 
what  you  would  say.  You  would  say 
that  even  if  you  had  embraced  some 
Young  Person  in  a  sealskin  coat,  what 
had  that  to  do  with  the  robbery?  Let  me 
tell  you,  then,  that  that  sealskin  coat  re 
presented  the  quality  and  character  of  your 
fatal  entanglement !  You  bartered  your 
honor  for  it  —  that  stolen  cigar  case  was 
the  purchaser  of  the  sealskin  coat ! 

"  Silence  !  Having  thoroughly  estab 
lished  your  motive,  I  now  proceed  to  the 
commission  of  the  crime  itself.  Ordinary 
people  would  have  begun  with  that  — 
with  an  attempt  to  discover  the  where- 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  57 

abouts  of  the  missing  object.  These  are 
not  my  methods." 

So  overpowering  was  his  penetration 
that,  although  I  knew  myself  innocent,  I 
licked  my  lips  with  avidity  to  hear  the 
further  details  of  this  lucid  exposition  of 
my  crime. 

"  You  committed  that  theft  the  night 
I  showed  you  the  cigar  case,  and  after  I 
had  carelessly  thrown  it  in  that  drawer. 
You  were  sitting  in  that  chair,  and  I  had 
arisen  to  take  something  from  that  shelf. 
In  that  instant  you  secured  your  booty 
without  rising.  Silence  !  Do  you  remem 
ber  when  I  helped  you  on  with  your  over 
coat  the  other  night  ?  I  was  particular 
about  fitting  your  arm  in.  While  doing 
so  I  measured  your  arm  with  a  spring 
tape  measure,  from  the  shoulder  to  the 
cuff.  A  later  visit  to  your  tailor  con 
firmed  that  measurement.  It  proved  to 
be  the  exact  distance  between  your  chair 
and  that  drawer  !  " 


58  THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE 

I  sat  stunned. 

"  The  rest  are  mere  corroborative  de 
tails  !  You  were  again  tampering  with 
the  drawer  when  I  discovered  you  doing 
so !  Do  not  start !  The  stranger  that 
blundered  into  the  room  with  a  muffler 
on  —  was  myself  !  More,  I  had  placed  a 
little  soap  on  the  drawer  handles  when  I 
purposely  left  you  alone.  The  soap  was 
on  your  hand  when  I  shook  it  at  parting. 
I  softly  felt  your  pockets,  when  you  were 
asleep,  for  further  developments.  I  em 
braced  you  when  you  left  —  that  I  might 
feel  if  you  had  the  cigar  case  or  any  other 
articles  hidden  on  your  body.  This  con 
firmed  me  in  the  belief  that  you  had 
already  disposed  of  it  in  the  manner  and 
for  the  purpose  I  have  shown  you.  As  I 
still  believed  you  capable  of  remorse  and 
confession,  I  twice  allowed  you  to  see 
I  was  on  your  track :  once  in  the  garb 
of  an  itinerant  negro  minstrel,  and  the 
second  time  as  a  workman  looking  in 


THE  STOLEN  CIGAR  CASE  59 

the  window  of  the  pawnshop  where  you 
pledged  your  booty." 

"  But,"  I  burst  out,  "  if  you  had  asked 
the  pawnbroker,  you  would  have  seen 
how  unjust "  — 

"  Fool !  "  he  hissed,  "  that  was  one  of 
your  suggestions  —  to  search  the  pawn 
shops  !  Do  you  suppose  I  followed  any 
of  your  suggestions,  the  suggestions  of 
the  thief?  On  the  contrary,  they  told 
me  what  to  avoid." 

"  And  I  suppose,"  I  said  bitterly,  "  you 
have  not  even  searched  your  drawer?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  calmly. 

I  was  for  the  first  time  really  vexed.  I 
went  to  the  nearest  drawer  and  pulled  it 
out  sharply.  It  stuck  as  it  had  before, 
leaving  a  part  of  the  drawer  unopened. 
By  working  it,  however,  I  discovered  that 
it  was  impeded  by  some  obstacle  that 
had  slipped  to  the  upper  part  of  the 
drawer,  and  held  it  firmly  fast.  Insert 
ing  my  hand,  I  pulled  out  the  impeding 


60  THE  STOLEN  C1GAK  CASE 

object.  It  was  the  missing  cigar  case  !  I 
turned  to  him  with  a  cry  of  joy. 

But  I  was  appalled  at  his  expression. 
A  look  of  contempt  was  now  added  to 
his  acute,  penetrating  gaze.  "I  have 
been  mistaken/'  he  said  slowly  ;  "  I  had 
not  allowed  for  your  weakness  and  cow 
ardice  !  I  thought  too  highly  of  you 
even  in  your  guilt !  But  I  see  now  why 
you  tampered  with  that  drawer  the  other 
night.  By  some  inexplicable  means  — 
possibly  another  theft  —  you  took  the 
cigar  case  out  of  pawn  and,  like  a  whipped 
hound,  restored  it  to  me  in  this  feeble, 
clumsy  fashion.  You  thought  to  de 
ceive  me,  Hemlock  Jones !  More,  you 
thought  to  destroy  my  infallibility.  Go  ! 
I  give  you  your  liberty.  I  shall  not  sum 
mon  the  three  policemen  who  wait  in  the 
adjoining  room  —  but  out  of  my  sight 
forever  ! " 

As  I  stood  once  more  dazed  and  petri 
fied,  he  took  me  firmly  by  the  ear  and 


THE  STOLEN   CIGAR  CASE  61 

led  me  into  the  hall,  closing  the  door  be 
hind  him.  This  reopened  presently,  wide 
enough  to  permit  him  to  thrust  out  my 
hat,  overcoat,  umbrella,  and  overshoes, 
and  then  closed  against  me  forever ! 

I  never  saw  him  again.  I  am  bound 
to  say,  however,  that  thereafter  my  busi 
ness  increased,  I  recovered  much  of  my 
old  practice,  and  a  few  of  my  patients 
recovered  also.  I  became  rich.  I  had  a 
brougham  and  a  house  in  the  West  End. 
But  I  often  wondered,  pondering  on  that 
wonderful  man's  penetration  and  insight, 
if;  in  some  lapse  of  consciousness,  I  had 
not  really  stolen  his  cigar  case ! 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN, 

OR 

THE  MINX  AND  THE  MANXMAN 

BY  H-LL  C-NE 


BOOK  I 

GOLLY  COYLE  was  the  only  granddaugh 
ter  of  a  Vague  and  somewhat  simple  cler 
gyman  who  existed,  with  an  aunt,  solely 
for  Golly's  epistolary  purposes.  There 
was,  of  course,  intermediate  ancestry,  — 
notably  a  dead  mother  who  was  French, 
and  therefore  responsible  for  any  later 
naughtiness  in  Golly,  —  but  they  have  no 
purpose  here.  They  lived  in  the  Isle  of 
Man.  Golly  knew  a  good  deal  of  Man, 
for  even  at  the  age  of  twelve  she  was  in 
love  with  John  Gale  —  only  son  of  Lord 
Gale,  who  was  connected  with  the  Tem 
pests.  .Gales,  however,  were  frequent  and 
remarkable  along  the  coast,  so  that  it  was 
not  singular  that  one  day  she  found  John 
"  coming  on  "  on  a  headland  where  she 
was  sitting.  His  dog  had  "pointed" 


66          GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

her.  "  It 's  exceedingly  impolite  to  point 
to  anything  you  want/'  said  Golly. 
Touched  by  this,  and  overcome  by  a 
strange  emotion,  John  Gale  turned  away 
and  went  to  Canada.  Slight  as  the  inci 
dent  was,  it  showed  that  inborn  chivalry 
to  women,  that  desire  for  the  Perfect  Life, 
that  intense  eagerness  to  incarnate  Chris 
tianity  in  modern  society,  which  afterward 
distinguished  him.  Golly  loved  him ! 
For  all  that,  she  still  remained  a  "  tom 
boy  "  as  she  was,  —  robbing  orchards, 
mimicking  tramps  and  policemen,  butter 
ing  the  stairs  and  the  steps  of  houses, 
tying  kettles  to  dogs'  tails,  and  marching 
in  a  white  jersey,  with  the  curate's  hat  on, 
through  the  streets  of  the  village.  "  Gol 
dern  my  skin  !  "  said  the  dear  old  clergy 
man,  as  he  tried  to  emerge  from  a  surplice 
which  Golly  had  stitched  together ;  "  what 
spirits  the  child  do  have  !  "  Yet  every 
body  loved  her  !  And  when  John  Gale 
returned  from  Canada,  and  looked  into 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          67 

her  big  blue  eyes  one  day  at  church, 
small  wonder  that  he  immediately  went 
off  again  to  Paris,  and  an  extended  Con 
tinental  sojourn,  with  a  serious  leaning 
to  theology !  Golly  bore  his  absence 
meekly  but  characteristically  ;  got  a  boat, 
disported  like  a  duck  in  the  water,  at 
tempted  to  elope  with  a  boy  appropriately 
named  Drake,  but  encountered  a  half  gale 
at  sea  and  a  whole  Gale  in  John  on  a 
yacht,  who  rescued  them  both.  Convinced 
now  that  there  was  but  one  way  to  escape 
from  his  Fate  —  Golly  !  —  John  Gale 
took  holy  orders  and  at  once  started  for 
London.  As  he  stood  on  the  deck  of  the 
steamer  he  heard  an  imbecile  chuckle  in 
his  ear.  It  was  the  simple  old  clergyman  : 
"  You  are  going  to  London  to  join  the 
Church,  John  ;  Golly  is  going  there,  too, 
as  hospital  nurse.  There  's  a  pair  of  you  ! 
He !  he !  Look  after  her,  John,  and 
protect  her  Manx  simplicity."  Before 
John  could  recover  himself,  Golly  was 


68          GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

at  his  side  executing  the  final  steps  of  a 
"  cellar-door  flap  jig "  to  the  light-hearted 
refrain :  — 

"  We  are  a  simple  family  —  we  are  —  we  are  — we  are  ! " 

And  even  as  her  pure  young  voice 
arose  above  the  screams  of  the  departure 
whistle,  she  threw  a  double  back-somer 
sault  on  the  quarter-deck,  cleverly  alight 
ing  on  the  spokes  of  the  wheel  before  the 
delighted  captain. 

"  Jingle  my  electric  bells/'  he  said, 
looking  at  the  bright  young  thing,  "  but 
you  're  a  regular  minx  "  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  interrupted  John 
Gale,  with  a  quick  flush. 

"  I  mean  a  regular  Manx"  said  the 
captain  hurriedly. 

A  singular  paleness  crossed  the  deeply 
religious  face  of  John.  As  the  vessel  rose 
on  the  waves,  he  passed  his  hand  hur 
riedly  first  across  his  brows  and  then  over 
his  high-buttoned  clerical  waistcoat,  that 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          69 

visible  sign  of  a  devoted  ascetic  life ! 
Then  murmuring  in  his  low,  deep  voice, 
"  Brandy,  steward,"  he  disappeared  be 
low. 


BOOK  II 

GLORIOUS  as  were  Golly 's  spirits,  ex 
quisitely  simple  her  worldly  ignorance, 
and  irresistible  her  powers  of  mimicry, 
strangely  enough  they  were  considered 
out  of  place  in  St.  Barabbas'  Hospital. 
A  light-hearted  disposition  to  mistake 
a  blister  for  a  poultice ;  that  rare  Manx 
conscientiousness  which  made  her  give 
double  doses  to  the  patients  as  a  compen 
sation  when  she  had  omitted  to  give  them 
a  single  one,  and  the  faculty  of  bursting 
into  song  at  the  bedside  of  a  dying  pa 
tient,  produced  some  liveliness  not  unmixed 
with  perplexity  among  the  hospital  staff. 
It  is  true,  however,  that  her  performance 
of  clog-dancing  during  the  night-watches 
drew  a  larger  and  more  persistent  attend 
ance  of  students  and  young  surgeons  than 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          71 

ever  was  seen  before.  Yet  everybody 
loved  her  !  Even  her  patients  !  "  If  it 
amooses  you,  miss,  to  make  me  tyke  the 
pills  wot 's  meant  for  the  lydy  in  the  next 
ward,  I  ain't  complyning,"  said  an  East 
End  newsboy.  "  When  ye  tyke  off  the 
style  of  the  doctor  wot  wisits  me,  miss, 
and  imitates  his  wyes,  Lawd  !  it  does  me 
as  much  good  as  his  mixtures,"  said  a 
consumptive  charwoman.  Even  thus,  old 
and  young  basked  in  the  radiant  youth 
of  Golly.  She  found  time  to  write  to  her 
family :  — 

DEAR  OLD  PALS  !  I  'm  here.  J'y  suis ! 
bet  your  boots  !  While  you  're  wondering 
what  has  become  of  the  Bright  Young 
Thing,  the  B.  Y.  T.  is  lookin'  out  of 
the  winder  of  St.  Barabbas'  Hospital  — 
just  taking  in  all  of  dear,  roaring,  dirty 
London  in  one  gulp  !  Such  a  place  — 
Lordy  !  I  've  been  waiting  three  hours 
to  see  the  crowd  go  by,  and  they  have  n't 


72          GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

gone  yet !  Such  crowds,  such  busses,  — 
all  green  and  blue,  only  a  penny  fare, 
and  you  can  ride  on  top  if  you  want  to  ! 
Think  of  that,  you  dear  old  Manx  people  ! 
But  there  —  "  the  bell  goes  a-ringing  for 
Sarah  !  "  —  they  're  calling  for  Nurse  ! 
That 's  the  worst  of  this  job  :  they  're 
always  a-dyin'  just  as  you  're  getting 
interested  in  something  else  !  Ta-ta  ! 

GOLLY  ! 

Then  her  dear  old  grandfather  wrote  : 

I  'm  wondering  where  my  diddleums, 
Golly,  is  !  We  all  miss  you  so  much, 
deary,  though  we  don't  miss  so  many 
little  things  as  when  you  were  here.  My 
dear,  conscientious,  unselfish  little  girl ! 
You  don't  say  where  John  Gale  is.  Is 
he  still  protecting  you  —  he-he  !  —  you 
giddy,  naughty  thing  !  People  wonder 
on  the  island  why  I  let  you  go  alone  to 
London  —  they  forget  your  dear  mother 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          73 

was  a  Frenchwoman !  If  you  see  any 
thing  your  dear  old  grandfather  would 
like  —  send  it  on.  GRANFER. 

Later,  her  aunt  wrote  :  — 

Have  you  seen  the  Queen  yet,  and 
does  she  wear  her  crown  at  breakfast  ? 
You  might  get  over  the  area  railing  at 
Buckingham  Palace  —  it  would  be  no 
thing  for  a  girl  like  you  to  do  —  and  see 
if  you  can  find  out. 

To  these  letters.  Golly  answered,  in  her 
own  light-hearted  way  :  — 

DEAR  GRANKINS,  -  -  I  have  n't  seen 
John  much  —  but  I  think  he  's  like  the 
Private  Secretary  at  the  play  —  he  "  don't 
like  London."  Lordy  !  there  —  I  've  let 
it  out !  I  've  been  to  a  theayter.  Nurse 
Jinny  Jones  and  me  scrouged  into  the  pit 
one  night  without  paying,  "  pertendin'/' 


74          GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

as  we  were  in  uniform,  we  had  come 
to  take  out  a  "  Lydy  "  that  had  fainted. 
Such  larks !  and  such  a  glorious  theay ter ! 
I  '11  tell  you  another  time.  Tell  aunty 
the  Queen  's  always  out  when  I  call.  But 
that 's  nothing,  everybody  else  is  so  affa 
ble  and  polite  in  London.  Gentlemen  — 
"  real  toffs,"  they  call  'em  —  whom  you 
don't  know  from  Adam  —  think  nothing 
of  speaking  to  you  in  the  street.  Why, 
Nurse  Jinny  says  —  but  there  another 
patient 's  going  off  who  by  rights  oughter 
have  died  only  to-morrow.  "  To-morrow 
and  to-morrow  and  to-morrow,"  as  that 
barn-stormer  actor  said.  But  they  're 
always  calling  for  that  giddy  young  thing, 
Your  GOLLY. 

Meantime,  John  Gale,  having  abruptly 
left  Golly  at  the  door  of  St.  Barabbas' 
Hospital,  tactfully  avoiding  an  unseemly 
altercation  with  the  cab-driver  regarding 
her  exact  fare,  pursued  his  way  thought- 


GOLLY  AND  THE   CHRISTIAN          75 

fully  to  the  residence  of  his  uncle,  the 
First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty.  He  found 
his  Lordship  in  his  bath-room.  He  was 
leaning  over  the  bath-tub,  which  was  half 
full  of  water,  contemplating  with  some 
anxiety  the  model  of  a  line-of-battle  ship 
which  was  floating  on  it,  bottom  upward. 
"  I  don't  think  it  can  be  quite  right  —  do 
you  ? "  he  said,  nervously  grasping  his 
nephew's  hand  as  he  pointed  to  the  cap 
sized  vessel ;  "  yet  they  always  do  it.  Tell 
me  !  "  he  went  on  appealingly,  "  tell  me, 
as  a  professing  Christian  and  a  Perfect 
Man  —  is  it  quite  right  ?  " 

"  I  should  think,  sir,"  responded  John 
Gale,  with  uncompromising  truthfulness, 
"  that  the  average  vessel  of  commerce  is 
not  built  in  that  way." 

"  Yet,"  said  the  First  Lord  of  the  Ad 
miralty,  with  a  far-off  look,  "  they  all  do 
it !  And  they  don't  steer !  The  larger 
they  are  and  the  more  recent  the  model, 
the  less  they  steer.  Dear  me  —  you  ought 

I 


76          GOLLY  AND   THE   CHRISTIAN 

to  see  'em  go  round  and  round  in  that 
tub."  Then,  apparently  recalling  the 
probable  purpose  of  John's  visit,  he  led 
the  way  into  his  dressing-room.  "  So  you 
are  in  London,  dear  boy.  Is  there  any 
little  thing  you  want  ?  I  have,"  he  con 
tinued,  absently  fumbling  in  the  drawers 
of  his  dressing-table,  "  a  few  curacies  and 
a  bishopric  somewhere,  but  with  these 
blessed  models  —  I  can't  think  where  they 
are.  Or  what  would  you  say  to  a  nice 
chaplaincy  in  the  navy,  with  a  becoming 
uniform,  on  one  of  those  thingummies  ?  " 
He  pointed  to  the  bath-room.  "Stay,", 
he  continued,  as  he  passed  his  hand  over 
his  perplexed  brows,  "  now  I  think  of  it 
—  you  're  quite  unorthodox  !  Dear  me  ! 
that  would  n't  do.  You  see,  Drake,"  — 
he  paused,  as  John  Gale  started,  —  "I 
mean  Sir  Francis  Drake,  once  suspended 
his  chaplain  for  unorthodoxy,  according 
to  Froude's  book.  These  admirals  are 
dreadfully  strict  Churchmen.  No  matter ! 


GOLLY  AND  THE   CHRISTIAN          77 

Come  again  some  other  time/'  he  added, 
gently  pushing  his  nephew  downstairs  and 
into  the  street,  "  and  we  '11  see  about  it." 

With  a  sinking  heart,  John  turned  his 
steps  toward  Westminster.  He  would  go 
and  see  Golly  ;  perhaps  he  had  not  looked 
after  her  as  he  ought.  Suddenly  a  re 
membered  voice,  in  mimicking  accents,  fell 
upon  his  ear  with  the  quotation,  "Do  you 
know  ? "  Then,  in  a  hansom  passing 
swiftly  by  him,  Golly,  in  hospital  dress 
with  flying  ribbons,  appeared,  sitting  be 
tween  Lord  Brownstone  Ewer  and  Francis 
Horatio  Nelson  Drake,  completely  grown 
up.  And  from  behind  floated  the  inex 
pressibly  sad  refrain,  "  Hi  tiddli  hi !  " 

This  is  how  it  happened.  One  morn 
ing,  Jinny  Jones,  another  hospital  ntirse, 
had  said  to  her,  "  Have  you  any  objec 
tion,  dear,  to  seeing  a  friend  of  another 
gent,  a  friend  of  mine  ?  " 

"  None  in  the  least,  dear,"  said  Golly. 
"  I  want  to  see  all  that  can  be  seen,  and 


78          GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

do  all  that  can  be  done  in  London,  and 
know  the  glory  thereof.  I  only  require 
that  I  shall  be  allowed  to  love  John  Gale 
whenever  he  permits  it,  which  is  n't  often, 
and  that  I  may  be  permitted  to  write 
simple  letters  to  my  doting  relations  at 
the  rate  of  twelve  pages  a  day,  giving 
an  account  —  my  own  account  —  of  my 
doings.  There  !  Go  on  now  !  Bring  on 
your  bears." 

They  had  visited  the  chambers  which 
Lord  Brownstone  and  Drake  occupied 
together,  and  in  girlish  innocence  had  put 
on  the  gentlemen's  clothes  and  danced 
before  them.  Then  they  all  went  to  the 
theatre,  where  Golly's  delightful  simplicity 
and  childish  ignorance  of  the  world  had 
charmed  them.  Everything  to  her  was 
new,  strange,  and  thrilling.  She  even 
leaned  from  the  carriage  windows  to  see 
the  "wheels  go  round."  She  was  sur 
prised  at  the  number  of  people  in  the 
theatre,  and  insisted  on  knowing  if  it  was 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          79 

church,  because  they  all  sat  there  in  their 
best  clothes  so  quietly.  She  believed  that  • 
the  play  was  real,  and  frequently,  from  a 
stage  box,  interrupted  the  acting  with  ex 
planations.  She  informed  the  heroine  of 
the  design  of  the  villain  waiting  at  the 
wings.  And  when  the  aged  mother  of 
the  heroine  was  dying  of  starvation  in  a 
hovel,  and  she  threw  a  bag  of  bonbons  on 
the  stage,  with  the  vociferous  declaration 
that  "  Lord  Brownstone  had  just  given 
them  to  her  —  but  —  Lordy  !  —  she  did  n't 
want  them,"  they  were  obliged  to  lead  her 
away,  closely  followed  by  an  usher  and 
a  policeman.  "  To  think,"  she  wrote 
to  John  Gale,  "  that  the  audience  only 
laughed  and  shouted,  and  never  offered 
to  help  !  And  yet  look  at  the  churches 
in  London,  where  they  dare  to  preach  the 
gospel !  " 

Fired  by  this  simple  letter,  and  alarmed 
by  Golly's  simplicity,  John  Gale  went  to 
his  clerical  chief,  Archdeacon  Luxury, 


80          GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

and  demanded  permission  to  preach  next 
Sunday.  "  Certainly,"  said  the  Arch 
deacon  ;  "  you  shall  take  my  curate's 
place.  I  shall  inform  the  congregation 
that  you  are  the  son  of  Lord  Gale.  They 
are  very  particular  churchmen  —  all  so 
ciety  people  —  and  of  course  will  be  satis 
fied  with  the  work  of  the  Lord,  especially/' 
he  added,  with  a  polite  smile,  "  when  that 
work  happens  to  be  —  the  Lord  Gale's 
son."  Accordingly,  the  next  Sunday, 
John  Gale  occupied  the  pulpit  of  St. 
Swithin.  But  an  unexpected  event  hap 
pened.  His  pent-up  eagerness  to  de 
nounce  the  present  methods  of  Chris 
tianity,  his  fullness  of  utterance,  defeated 
his  purpose.  He  was  overcome  with  a 
kind  of  pulpit  fright.  His  ideas  of  time 
and  place  fled  him.  After  beginning, 
"  Mr.  Chairman,  in  rising  to  propose  the 
toast  of  our  worthy  Archdeacon  —  Fel 
low  Manxmen  —  the  present  moment 
—  er  —  er  —  the  proudest  in  my  —  er 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          81 

—  life — Dearly  beloved  Golly  —  unaccus 
tomed  as  I  am  to  public  speaking/'  he 
abruptly  delivered  the  benediction  and 
sat  down.  The  incident,  however,  pro 
voked  little  attention.  The  congregation, 
accustomed  to  sleep  through  the  sermon, 
awoke  at  the  usual  time  and  went  home. 
Only  a  single  Scotchwoman  said  to  him 
in  passing  :  "  Verra  weel  for  a  beginning, 
laddie.  But  give  it  hotter  to  'em  next 
time."  Discomfited  and  bewildered,  he 
communed  with  himself  gloomily.  "  I 
can't  marry  Golly.  I  can't  talk.  I  hate 
society.  What 's  to  be  done  ?  I  have  it ! 
I  '11  go  into  a  monastery." 

He  went  into  a  monastery  in  Bishops- 
gate  Street,  reached  by  a  threepenny 
'bus.  He  gave  out  vaguely  that  he  had 
got  into-"  Something  Good,  in  the  City." 
Society  was  satisfied.  Only  Golly  sus 
pected  the  truth.  She  wrote  to  her 
grandfather :  — 

"  I  saw  John  Gale  the  other  day  with 


82          GOLLY  AND  THE   CHRISTIAN 

a  crowd  following  him  in  the  Strand. 
He  had  on  only  a  kind  of  brown  serge 
dressing-gown,  tied  around  his  waist  by  a 
rope,  and  a  hood  on  his  head.  I  think 
his  poor  '  toe-toes  '  were  in  sandals,  and 
I  dare  say  his  legs  were  cold,  poor  dear. 
However,  if  he  calls  that  protection  of 
Golly  —  /  don't !  I  might  be  run  off  at 
any  moment  —  for  all  he  'd  help.  No 
matter  !  If  this  Court^  understands  her 
self,  and  she  thinks  she  do,  Golly  can 
take  care  of  herself  —  you  bet." 

Nevertheless,  Golly  lost  her  place  at 
the  hospital  through  her  heroic  defense 
of  her  friend  Jinny  Jones,  who  had  been 
deceived  by  Lord  Brownstone  Ewer. 
"  You  would  drive  that  poor  girl  into  the 
street,"  she  said  furiously  to  the  Chairman 
of  the  Board,  throwing  her  cap  and  apron 
in  their  faces.  "  You  're  a  lot  of  rotten 
old  hypocrites,  and  I  'm  glad  to  get  shut  of 
you."  Not  content  with  that,  she  went 
to  Drake  and  demanded  that  he  should 


GOLLY  AND   THE  CHRISTIAN          83 

make  his  friend  Lord  Brown  stone  marry 
Jinny. 

"  Sorry  —  awfully  sorry  —  my  dear 
Golly,  but  he  's  engaged  to  a  rich  Amer 
ican  girl  who  is  to  pay  his  debts ;  but  I  '11 
see  that  he  does  something  handsome  for 
Jinny.  And  you,  my  child,  what  are  you 
going  to  do  without  a  situation  ? "  he 
added,  with  touching  sympathy.  "  You 
see,  I  've  some  vague  idea  of  marrying 
you  myself,"  he  concluded  meditatively. 

"  Thank  you  for  nothing,"  interrupted 
Golly  gayly,  "  but  I  can  take  care  of  my 
self  and  follow  out  my  mission  like  John 
Gale." 

"  There 's  a  pair  of  you,  certainly,"  said 
Drake,  with  a  tinge  of  jealous  bitterness. 

"  You  bet  it 's  '  a  pair  '  that  will  take 
your  '  two  knaves/  you  and  your  Lord 
Brownstone,"  returned  Golly,  dropping  a 
mock  courtesy.  "  Ta-ta ;  I  'm  going  on 
the  stage." 


BOOK  III 

SHE  went  first  into  a  tobacconist's  — 
and  sold  cigarettes.  Sometimes  she  suf 
fered  from  actual  want,  and  ate  fried  fish. 
"  Do  you  know  how  nice  fried  fish  tastes 
in  London,  —  you  on  '  the  Oilan'?"  she 
wrote  gayly.  "  I  'm  getting  on  splen 
didly  ;  so  's  John  Gale,  I  suppose,  though 
he 's  looking  cadaverous  from  starving 
himself  all  round.  Tell  aunty  I  have  n't 
seen  the  Queen  yet,  though  after  all  I 
really  believe  she  has  not  seen  me." 

Then,  after  a  severe  struggle,  she  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  on  the  stage  as  a  song 
and  dance  girl.  She  sang  melodiously 
and  danced  divinely,  so  remarkably  that 
the  ignorant  public,  knowing  her  to  be  a 
Manx  girl,  and  vaguely  associating  her 
with  the  symbol  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  sup- 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  85 

posed  she  had  three  legs.  She  was  the 
success  of  the  season ;  her  cup  of  ambi 
tion  was  filled.  It  was  slightly  embittered 
by  the  news  that  her  friend  Jinny  Jones 
had  killed  herself  in  the  church  at  the 
wedding  of  her  recreant  lover  and  the 
American  heiress.  But  the  affair  was 
scarcely  alluded  to  by  the  Society  papers 
—  who  were  naturally  shocked  at  the  bad 
taste  of  the  deceased.  And  even  Golly 
forgot  it  all  —  on  the  stage. 


BOOK  IV 

MEANWHILE  John  Gale,  or  Brother 
Boreas,  as  he  was  known  in  the  monas 
tery,  was  submitting  —  among  other  rig 
ors  —  to  an  exceptionally  severe  winter 
in  Bishopsgate  Street,  which  seemed  to 
have  an  Arctic  climate  of  its  own,  —  pos 
sibly  induced  by  the  "  freezing-out  "  pro 
cess  of  certain  stock  companies  in  its 
vicinity. 

"  You  are  miserable,  and  eager  to  get 
out  in  the  wicked  world  again,  my  son," 
said  the  delightful  old  Superior,  as  he  sat 
by  the  only  fire,  sipping  a  glass  of  mulled 
port,  when  John  came  in  from  shoveling 
snow  outside.  "  I,  therefore,  merely  to 
try  you,  shall  make  you  gatekeeper.  The 
keys  of  the  monastery  front  door  are 
under  the  door-mat  in  my  cell,  but  I  am 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          87 

a  sound  sleeper."  He  smiled  seraphically, 
and  winked  casually  as  he  sipped  his  port. 
"  We  will  call  it,  if  you  please  -  -  a 
penance." 

John  threw  himself  in  an  agony  of 
remorse  and  shame  at  the  feet  of  the  Su 
perior.  "  It  is  n't  of  myself  I  'm  think 
ing,"  he  confessed  wildly,  "  but  of  that 
poor  young  man,  Brother  Bones,  in  the 
next  cell  to  mine.  He  is  a  living  skele 
ton,  has  got  only  one  lung  and  an  atro 
phied  brain.  A  night  out  might  do  him 
good." 

The  Father  Superior  frowned.  "Do 
you  know  who  he  is  ?  " 

«  No." 

"  His  real  name  is  Jones.  Why  do  you 
start  ?  You  have  heard  it  before  ?  " 

John  had  started,  thinking  of  Jinny 
Jones,  Golly's  deserted  and  self-immolated 
friend. 

"  It  is  an  uncommon  name,"  he  stam 
mered  —  "  for  a  monastery,  I  mean." 


88          GOLLY  AND   THE   CHRISTIAN 

"  He  is  or  was  an  uncommon  man  !  " 
said  the  Superior  gravely.  "  But,"  he 
added  resignedly,  "  we  cannot  pick  and 
choose  our  company  here.  Most  of  us 
have  done  something  and  have  our  own 
reasons  for  this  retreat.  Brother  Polyga- 
mus  escaped  here  from  the  persecutions 
of  his  sixth  wife.  Even  I,"  continued  the 
Superior  with  a  gentle  smile,  putting  his 
feet  comfortably  on  the  mantelpiece,  "have 
had  my  little  fling,  and  the  dear  boys 
used  to  say  —  ahem  !  —  but  this  is  mere 
worldly  vanity.  You  alone,  my  dear  son," 
he  went  on  with  slight  severity,  "  seem  to 
be  wanting  in  some  criminality,  or  — 
shall  I  say  ?  —  some  appropriate  besetting 
sin  to  qualify  you  for  this  holy  retreat. 
An  absolutely  gratuitous  and  blameless 
idiocy  appears  to  be  your  only  peculiarity, 
and  for  this  you  must  do  penance.  From 
this  day  henceforth,  I  make  you  door 
keeper  !  Go  on  with  your  shoveling  at 
present,  and  shut  the  door  behind  you ; 


GOLLY  AND  THE   CHRISTIAN          89 

there  's  a  terrible  draught  in  these  corri 
dors." 

For  three  days  John  Gale  underwent 
an  agony  of  doubt  and  determination,  and 
it  still  snowed  in  Bishopsgate  Street. 

On  the  fourth  evening  he  went  to 
Brother  Bones. 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  an  evening 
out?" 

"  I  would/'  said  Brother  Bones. 

"  What  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  would  go  to  see  my  remaining  sis 
ter."  His  left  eyelid  trembled  slowly  in 
his  cadaverous  face. 

"  But  if  you  should  hear  she  was  ruined 
like  the  other  ?  What  would  you  do  ?  " 

A  shudder  passed  over  the  man.  "  I 
have  not  got  my  little  knife,"  he  said 
vacantly. 

True,  he  had  not !  The  Brotherhood 
had  no  pockets,  —  or  rather  only  a  cor 
porate  one,  which  belonged  to  the  Supe 
rior.  John  Gale  lifted  his  eyes  in  sublime 


90          GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

exaltation.  "  You  shall  go  out/'  he  said 
with  decision.  "  Muffle  up  until  you  are 
well  out  of  Bishopsgate  Street,  where  it 
still  snows." 

"  But  how  did  you  get  the  keys  ?  "  said 
Brother  Bones. 

"From  under  the  Father  Superior's 
door-mat." 

"  But  that  was  wrong,  Brother." 

"  The  mat  bore  the  inscription, '  Salve/ 
which  you  know  in  Latin  means  '  Wel 
come/  "  returned  John  Gale.  "  It  was 
logically  a  permission." 

The  two  men  gazed  at  each  other 
silently.  A  shudder  passed  over  the  two 
left  eyelids  of  their  wan  spiritual  faces. 

"  But  I  have  no  money/'  said  Brother 
Bones. 

"  Nor  have  I.  But  here  is  a  'bus  ticket 
and  a  free  pass  to  the  Gaiety.  You  will 
probably  find  Golly  somewhere  about. 
Tell  her/'  he  said  in  a  hollow  voice,  "  that 
I  'm  getting  on." 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          91 

"I  will/'  said  Brother  Bones,  with  a 
deep  cough. 

The  gate  opened  and  he  disappeared  in 
the  falling  snow.  The  bloodhound  kept 
by  the  monastery  —  one  of  the  real  Bish- 
opsgate  breed  —  bayed  twice,  and  licked 
its  huge  jaws  in  ghastly  anticipation.  "  I 
wonder/'  said  John  Gale  as  he  resumed 
his  shoveling,  "  if  I  have  done  exactly 
right.  Candor  compels  me  to  admit  that 
it  is  an  open  question." 


BOOK  V 

EAELY  the  next  morning,  Brother  Bones 
was  brought  home  by  Policeman  X,  his 
hat  crushed,  his  face  haggard,  his  voice 
husky  and  unintelligible.  He  only  said 
vaguely,  "  Washertime  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  John  Gale  timidly,  in 
explanation  to  Policeman  X,  "  a  case  of 
spiritual  exhaustion  following  a  vigil." 

"  That  warn't  her  name,"  said  Police 
man  X  sternly.  "  But  don't  let  this  'ere 
'appen  again." 

John  Gale  turned  to  Brother  Bones. 
"  Then  you  saw  her  —  Golly  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Brother  Bones. 

"  Why  ?  What  on  earth  have  you  been, 
doing?" 

"  Dunno  !  Found  myself  in  stashun 
—  zis  morning  !  Thashall !  " 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          93 

Then  John  Gale  sought  the  Superior 
in  an  agony  of  remorse,  and  confessed  all. 
"  I  am  unfit  to  remain  doorkeeper.  Re 
move  me,"  he  groaned  bitterly. 

The  old  man  smiled  gently.  "  On  the 
contrary,  I  should  have  given  you  the  keys 
myself.  Hereafter  you  can  keep  them. 
The  ways  of  our  Brotherhood  are  mysteri 
ous,  —  indeed,  you  may  think  idiotic,  — 
but  we  are  not  responsible  for  them.  It 's 
all  Brother  Caine's  doing  —  it 's  'All 
Caine !  " 


BOOK  VI 

NEVERTHELESS,  John  Gale  left  the  mon 
astery.  "  The  Bishopsgate  Street  winter 
does  not  suit  me/'  he  briefly  explained  to 
the  Superior.  "  I  must  go  south  or  south 
west." 

But  he  did  neither.  He  saw  Golly,  who 
was  living  west.  He  upbraided  her  for 
going  on  the  stage.  She  retorted:  "Whose 
life  is  the  more  artificial,  yours  or  mine  ? 
It  is  true  that  we  are  both  imperfectly 
clothed,"  she  added,  glancing  at  a  photo 
graph  of  herself  in  a  short  skirt,  "  and  not 
always  in  our  right  mind  —  but  you  've 
caught  nothing  but  a  cold  !  Nevertheless, 
I  love  you  and  you  love  me." 

Then  he  begged  her  to  go  with  him  to 
the  South  Seas  and  take  the  place  of  Fa 
ther  Damien  among  the  colony  of  lepers. 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          95 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  place,  and  inexpensive, 
for  we  shall  live  only  a  few  weeks.  What 
do  you  say,  dearest  ?  You  know/'  he 
added,  with  a  faint,  sad  smile,  glancing  at 
another  photograph  of  her,  —  executing 
the  high  kick,  —  "  you  're  quite  a  leaper 
yourself." 

But  that  night  she  received  an  offer  of 
a  new  engagement.  She  wrote  to  John 
Gale :  "  The  South  Seas  is  rather  an 
expensive  trip  to  take  simply  to  die. 
Could  n't  we  do  it  as  cheaply  at  home  ? 
Or  could  n't  you  prevail  on  your  Father 
Superior  to  set  up  his  monastery  there  ? 
I  'm  afraid  I  'm  not  up  to  it.  Why  don't 
you  try  the  old  '  Oilan/  nearer  home  ? 
There 's  lots  of  measles  and  diphtheria 
about  there  lately." 

When  the  heartbroken  John  Gale  re 
ceived  this  epistle,  he  also  received  a  letter 
from  his  uncle,  the  First  Lord  of  the 
Admiralty.  "  I  don't  fancy  this  Damien 
whim  of  yours.  If  you  're  really  in  earnest 


96          GOLLY  AND   THE  CHRISTIAN 

about  killing  yourself,  why  not  take  a 
brief  trial  trip  in  one  of  our  latest  iron 
clads  ?  It 's  just  as  risky,  although  —  as 
we  are  obliged  to  keep  these  things  quiet 
in  the  Office  —  you  will  not  of  course  get 
that  publicity  your  noble  soul  craves." 

Abandoned  by  all  in  his  noble  purposes, 
John  Gale  took  the  first  steamer  to  the  Isle 
of  Man. 


BOOK  VII 

Bur  lie  did  not  remain  there  long. 
Once  back  in  that  epistolary  island,  he 
wrote  interminable  letters  to  Golly.  When 
they  began  to  bore  each  other,  he  returned 
to  London  and  entered  the  Salvation 
Army.  Crowds  flocked  to  hear  him 
preach.  He  inveighed  against  Society 
and  Wickedness  as  represented  in  his  mind 
by  Golly  and  her  friends,  and  praised  a 
perfect  Christianity  represented  by  him 
self  and  his  friends.  A  panic  of  the  same 
remarkable  character  as  the  Bishopsgate 
Street  winter  took  possession  of  London. 
Old  Moore's,  Zadkiel's,  and  Mother  Ship- 
ton's  prophecies  were  to  be  fulfilled  at  an 
early  and  fixed  date,  with  no  postpone 
ment  on  account  of  weather.  Suddenly 
Society,  John  Drake,  and  Antichrist  gen- 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 


erally  combined  by  ousting  him  from  his 
church,  and  turning  it  into  a  music-hall 
for  Golly  !  Then  John  Gale  took  his 
last  and  sublime  resolve.  His  duty  as  a 
perfect  Christian  was  to  kill  Golly  !  His 
logic  was  at  once  inscrutable,  perfect,  and 
—  John  Galish ! 

With  this  sublime  and  lofty  purpose, 
he  called  upon  Golly.  The  heroic  girl 
saw  his  purpose  in  his  eye  —  an  eye  at 
once  black,  murderous,  and  Christian-like. 
For  an  instant  she  thought  it  was  better 
to  succumb  at  once  and  thus  end  this  re 
markable  attachment.  Suddenly  through 
this  chaos  of  Spiritual,  Religious,  Ecstatic, 
Super-Egotistic  whirl  of  confused  thought, 
darted  a  gleam  of  Common,  Ordinary 
Horse  Sense  !  John  Gale  saw  it  illumine 
her  blue  eyes,  and  trembled.  God  in 
Mercy !  If  it  came  to  that  I 

"  Sit  down,  John,"  she  said  calmly. 
Then,  in  her  sweet,  clear  voice,  she  said : 
"  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you,  dearest,  that  a 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN          99 

more  ridiculous,  unconvincing,  purpose 
less,  insane,  God-forsaken  idiot  than  you 
never  existed  ?  That  you  eclipse  the 
wildest  dreams  of  insanity  ?  That  you 
are  a  mental  and  moral  '  What-is-it  ? ' : 

"  It  has  occurred  to  me,"  he  replied 
simply.  "  I  began  life  with  vast  asinine 
possibilities  which  fall  to  the  lot  of  few 
men  ;  yet  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  car 
ried  even  them  to  a  logical  conclusion  ! 
But  you,  love  !  you,  darling  !  conceived 
in  extravagance,  born  to  impossibility,  a 
challenge  to  credulity,  a  problem  to  the 
intellect,  a  (  missing  word '  for  all  ages, 
—  are  you  aware  of  any  one  as  utterly 
unsympathetic,  unreal,  and  untrue  to  na 
ture  as  you  are,  existing  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,  or  in  the  waters  under  the 
earth  ?  " 

"  You  are  right,  dearest ;  there  are 
none,"  she  returned  with  the  same  calm, 
level  voice.  "  It  is  true  that  I  have  at 
times  tried  to  do  something  real  and  wo- 


100         GOLLY  AND  THE   CHRISTIAN 

manly,  and  not,  you  know,  merely  to  com 
plicate  a  —  a"  -her  voice  faltered  — 
"  theatrical  situation  —  but  I  could  n't ! 
Something  impelled  me  otherwise.  Now 
you  know  why  I  became  an  actress  !  But 
even  there  I  fail !  They  are  allowed 
reasoning  power  off  the  stage  —  I  have 
none  at  any  time  !  I  laugh  in  the  wrong 
place  —  I  do  the  unnecessary,  extrava 
gant  thing.  Endowed  by  some  strange 
power  with  extraordinary  attributes,  I  am 
supposed  to  make  everybody  love  me,  but 
I  don't  —  I  satisfy  nobody ;  I  convince 
none  !  I  have  no  idea  what  will  happen 
to  me  next.  I  am  doomed  to  —  I  know 
not  what." 

"  And  I,"  he  groaned  bitterly,  "  I,  in 
some  rare  and  lucid  moments,  have  had  a 
glimpse  of  this  too.  We  are  in  the  hands 
of  some  inscrutable  but  awful  power.  Tell 
me,  Golly,  tell  me,  darling,  who  is  it  ?  " 

Again  that  gleam  of  Common  or  Ordi 
nary  Horse  Sense  came  in  her  eye. 


GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN         101 

"  I  have  found  out  who/'  she  whis 
pered.  "  I  have  found  out  who  has  cre 
ated  us,  and  made  us  as  puppets  in  his 
hands." 

"  Is  it  the  Almighty  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No  ;  it  is  "  —  she  said,  with  a  burst 
of  real  laughter  --  "  it  is --The  'All 
Caine  !  " 

"  What !  our  countryman  the  Manx 
man  ?  The  only  great  Novelist?  The 
beloved  of  Gladstone  ?  "  he  gasped. 

"  Yes  —  and  he  intends  to  kill  you  — 
and  we  're  only  to  be  married  at  your 
deathbed !  " 

John  Gale  arose  with  a  look  of  stern 
determination.  "  I  have  suffered  much 
and  idiotically  —  but  I  draw  a  line  at 
this.  I  shall  kick!" 

Golly  clapped  her  hands  joyfully.  "  We 
will ! " 

"  And  we  '11  chuck  him." 

«  We  will." 

They  were  choking  with  laughter. 


102         GOLLY  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

"  And  go  and  get  married  in  a  natural, 
simple  way  like  anybody  else  —  and  try 
—  to  do  our  duty  —  to  God  —  to  each 
other  —  and  to  our  fellow-beings  —  and 
quit  this  —  damned  —  nonsense  —  and 
in-fer-nal  idiocy  forever  !  " 

"Amen!"  * 

PUBLISHER'S  NOTE.  —  "In  that  su 
preme  work  of  my  life,  '  The  Christian/  ' 
said  the  gifted  novelist  to  a  reporter  in 
speaking  of  his  methods,  "  I  had  endowed 
the  characters  of  Golly  and  John  Gale 
with  such  superhuman  vitality  and  abso 
lute  reality  that  —  as  is  well  known  in  the 
experience  of  great  writers  —  they  be 
came  thinking  beings,  and  actually  criti 
cised  my  work,  and  even  interfered  and 
rebelled  to  the  point  of  altering  my  cli 
max  and  the  end  !  "  The  present  edition 
gives  that  ending,  which  of  course  is  the 
only  real  one. 


THE  ADVENTUKES  OF  JOHN 
LONGBOWE,  YEOMAN 

BEING   A   MODERN-ANTIQUE   REALISTIC 
ROMANCE 

(COMPILED  FROM  SEVERAL  EMINENT 
SOURCES) 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN 
LONGBOWE,  YEOMAN 

IT  seemeth  but  fair  that  I,  John  Long- 
bowe,  should  set  down  this  account  of 
such  hap  and  adventure  as  hath  befallen 
me,  without  flourish,  vaporing,  or  cozen 
ing  of  speech,  but  as  becometh  one  who, 
not  being  a  ready  writer,  goeth  straight 
to  the  matter  in  hand  in  few  words.  So, 
though  I  offend  some,  I  shall  yet  convince 
all,  the  which  lieth  closer  to  my  purpose. 
Thus,  it  was  in  the  year  1560,  or  1650, 
or  mayhap  1710  —  for  my  memory  is 
not  what  it  hath  been  and  I  ever  cared 
little  for  monkish  calendars  or  such  dry- 
as-dust  matter,  being  active  as  becometh 
one  who  hath  to  make  his  way  in  the 
world  —  yet  I  wot  well  it  was  after  the 
Great  Plague,  which  I  have  great  cause 


106  ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 

to  remember,  lying  at  my  cozen V  in 
Wardour  Street,  London,  in  that  lament 
able  year,  eating  of  gilly  flowers,  sulphur, 
hartes  tongue  and  many  stynking  herbes  ; 
touching  neither  man  nor  mayd,  save  with 
a  great  tongs  steept  in  pitch ;  wearing  a 
fine  maske  of  silk  with  a  mouth  piece  of 
aromatic  stuff  —  by  reason  of  which  acts 
of  hardihood  and  courage  I  was  miracu 
lously  preserved.  This  much  I  shall  say 
as  to  the  time  of  these  happenings,  and 
no  more.  I  am  a  plain,  blunt  man  — 
mayhap  rude  of  speech  should  occasion 
warrant  —  so  let  them  who  require  the 
exactness  of  a  scrivener  or  a  pedagogue 
go  elsewhere  for  their  entertainment  and 
be  hanged  to  them  ! 

Howbeit,  though  no  scholar,  I  am  not 
one  of  those  who  misuse  the  English 
speech,  and,  being  foolishly  led  by  the 
hasty  custom  of  scriveners  and  printers  to 
write  the  letters  "  T  "  and  "  H  "  joined  to 
gether,  which  resembleth  a  "  Y,"  do  incon- 


ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE  107 

tinently  jump  to  the  conclusion  the  THE 
is  pronounced  "  Ye,"  —  the  like  of  which 
I  never  heard  in  all  England.  And 
though  this  be  little  toward  those  great 
enterprises  and  happenings  I  shall  pre 
sently  shew,  I  set  it  down  for  the  behoof 
of  such  malapert  wights  as  must  needs 
gird  at  a  man  of  spirit  and  action  —  and 
yet,  in  sooth,  know  not  their  own  letters. 
So  to  my  tale.  There  was  a  great  frost 
when  my  Lord  bade  me  follow  him  to  the 
water  gate  near  our  lodgings  in  the  Strand. 
When  wre  reached  it  we  were  amazed  to 
see  that  the  Thames  was  frozen  over  and 
many  citizens  disporting  themselves  on  the 
ice  —  the  like  of  which  no  man  had  seen 
before.  There  were  fires  built  thereon, 
,and  many  ships  and  barges  were  stuck 
hard  and  fast,  and  my  Lord  thought  it 
vastly  pretty  that  the  people  were  walking 
under  their  bows  and  cabbin  windows  and 
climbing  of  their  sides  like  mermen,  but 
I,  being  a  plain,  blunt  man,  had  no  joy 


108    ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 

in  such  idlenesse,  deeming  it  better  that 
in  these  times  of  pith  and  enterprise  they 
should  be  more  seemly  employed.  My 
Lord,  because  of  one  or  two  misadventures 
by  reason  of  the  slipperiness  of  the  ice, 
was  fain  to  go  by  London  Bridge,  which 
we  did  ;  my  Lord  as  suited  •  his  humor 
ruffling  the  staid  citizens  as  he  passed  or 
peering  under  the  hoods  of  their  wives 
and  daughters  —  as  became  a  young  gal 
lant  of  the  time.  I,  being  a  plain,  blunt 
man,  assisted  in  no  such  folly,  but  con 
tented  myself,  when  they  complayned  to 
me,  with  damning  their  souls  for  greasy 
interfering  varlets.  For  I  shall  now  make  j 
no  scruple  in  declaring  that  my  Lord  was  ; 
the  most  noble  Earl  of  Southampton,  be-  | 
ing  withheld  from  so  saying  before  through 
very  plainness  and  bluntness,  desiring  as 
a  simple  yeoman  to  make  no  boast  of 
serving  a  man  of  so  high  quality. 

We   fared   on    over   Bankside   to   the 
Globe  playhouse,  where  my  Lord  bade  me 


ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE  109 

dismount  and  deliver  a  secret  message  to 
the  chief  player  —  which  message  was, 
"  had  he  diligently  perused  and  examined 
that  tie  wot  of,  and  what  said  he  thereof  ?  " 
Which  I  did.  Thereupon  he  that  was 
called  the  chief  player  did  incontinently 
proceed  to  load  mine  arms  and  wallet  with 
many  and  divers  rolls  of  manuscripts  in 
my  Lord's  own  hand,  and  bade  me  say  unto 
him  that  there  was  a  great  frost  over  Lon 
don,  but  that  if  he  were  to  perform  those 
plays  and  masques  publickly,  there  would 
be  a  greater  frost  there  —  to  wit,  in  the 
Globe  playhouse.  This  I  did  deliver  with 
the  Manuscripts  to  my  Lord,  who  changed 
countenance  mightily  at  the  sight  of  them, 
but  could  make  nought  of  the  message. 
At  which  the  lad  who  held  the  horses 
before  the  playhouse  —  one  Will  Shake 
speare  —  split  with  laughter.  Whereat 
my  Lord  cursed  him  for  a  deer-stealing, 
coney-catching  Warwickshire  lout,  and 
cuffed  him  soundly.  I  wot  there  will  be 


110    ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 

those  who  remember  that  this  Will  Shake 
speare  afterwards  became  a  player  and  did 
write  plays  —  which  were  acceptable  even 
to  the  Queen's  Majesty's  self  —  and  I  set 
this  down  not  from  vanity  to  shew  I  have 
held  converse  with  such,  nor  to  give  a 
seemingness  and  colour  to  my  story,  but  to 
shew  what  ill-judged,  misinformed  knaves 
were  they  who  did  afterwards  attribute 
friendship  between  my  Lord  and  this  Will 
Shakespeare,  even  to  the  saying  that  he 
made  sonnets  to  my  Lord.  Howbeit, 
my  Lord  was  exceeding  wroth,  and  I,  to 
beguile  him,  did  propose  that  we  should 
leave  our  horses  and  cargoes  of  manu 
script  behind  and  cross  on  the  ice  afoot, 
which  conceit  pleased  him  mightily.  In 
sooth  it  chanced  well  with  what  followed, 
for  hardly  were  we  on  the  river  when  we 
saw  a  great  crowd  coming  from  West 
minster,  before  a  caravan  of  strange  ani 
mals  and  savages  in  masks,  capering  and 
capricolling,  dragging  after  them  divers 


ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE    111 

sledges  quaintly  fashioned  like  swannes, 
in  which  were  ladies  attired  as  fairies  and 
goddesses  and  such  like  heathen  and  wan 
ton  trumpery,  which  I,  as  a  plain,  blunt 
man,  would  have  fallen  to  cursing,  had 
not  my  Lord  himself  damned  me  under 
his  breath  to  hold  my  peace,  for  that  he 
had  recognized  my  Lord  of  Leicester's 
colours  and  that  he  made  no  doubt  they 
were  of  the  Court.  As  forsooth  this  did 
presently  appear ;  also  that  one  of  the 
ladies  was  her  Gracious  Majesty's  self  — 
masked  to  the  general  eye,  the  better  to 
enjoy  these  miscalled  festivities.  I  say  mis 
called,  for,  though  a  loyal  subject  of  her 
Majesty,  and  one  who  hath  borne  arms  at 
Tilbury  Fort  in  defence  of  her  Majesty, 
it  inflamed  my  choler,  as  a  plain  and 
blunt  man,  that  her  Mightiness  should  so 
degrade  her  dignity.  Howbeit,  as  a  man 
who  hath  his  way  to  make  in  the  world,  I 
kept  mine  eyes  well  upon  the  an  ticks  of  the 
Great,  while  my  Lord  joined  the  group  of 


112  ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 

maskers  and  their  follies.  I  recognized 
her  Majesty's  presence  by  her  discourse  in 
three  languages  to  as  many  Ambassadors 
that  were  present  —  though  I  marked  well 
that  she  had  not  forgotten  her  own  tongue, 
calling  one  of  her  ladies  "a  sluttish  wench," 
nor  her  English  spirit  in  cuffing  my  Lord 
of  Essex's  ears  for  some  indecorum  — 
which,  as  a  plain  man  myself,  curt  in 
speech  and  action,  did  rejoice  me  greatly. 
But  I  must  relate  one  feat,  the  like  of 
which  I  never  saw  in  England  before  or 
since.  There  was  a  dance  of  the  maskers, 
and  in  the  midst  of  it  her  Majesty  asked 
the  Ambassador  from  Spayne  if  he  had 
seen  the  latest  French  dance.  He  replied 
that  he  had  not.  Whereupon  Her  Most 
Excellent  Majesty  skipt  back  a  pace  and 
forward  a  pace,  and  lifting  her  hoop,  de 
livered  a  kick  at  his  Excellency's  hat  which 
sent  it  flying  the  space  of  a  good  English 
ell  above  his  head !  Howbeit  so  great 
was  the  acclamation  that  her  Majesty  was 


ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE  113 

graciously  moved  to  repeat  it  to  my  Lord 
of  Leicester,  but,  tripping  back,  her  high 
heels  caught  in  her  farthingale,  and  she 
would  have  fallen  on  the  ice,  but  for  that 
my  Lord,  with  exceeding  swiftness  and 
dexterity,  whisked  his  cloak  from  his 
shoulder,  spreading  it  under  her,  and  so 
received  her  body  in  its  folds  on  the  ice, 
without  himself  touching  her  Majesty's 
person.  Her  Majesty  was  greatly  pleased 
at  this,  and  bade  my  Lord  buy  another 
cloak  at  her  cost,  though  it  swallowed  an 
estate  ;  but  my  Lord  reply ed,  after  the.  ly 
ing  fashion  of  the  time,  that  it  was  honour 
enough  for  him  to  be  permitted  to  keep  it 
after  "  it  had  received  her  Royal  person." 
I  know  that  this  hap  hath  been  partly 
related  of  another  person  —  the  shipman 
Raleigh — but  I  tell  such  as  deny  me 
that  they  lie  in  their  teeth,  for  I,  John 
Longbowe,  have  cause  —  miserable  cause 
enough,  I  warrant  —  to  remember  it,  and 
my  Lord  can  bear  me  out !  For,  spite  of 


114    ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN   LONGBOWE 

his  fair  speeches,  when  he  was  quit  of  the 
Royal  presence,  he  threw  me  his  wet  and 
bedraggled  cloak  and  bade  me  change  it 
with  him  for  mine  own,  which  was  dry  and 
warm.  And  it  was  this  simple  act  which 
wrought  the  lamentable  and  cruel  deed  of 
which  I  was  the  victim,  for,  as  I  followed 
my  Lord,  thus  apparelled,  across  the  ice,  I 
was  suddenly  set  upon  and  seized,  a  choke- 
pear  clapt  into  my  mouth  so  that  I  could 
not  cry  aloud,  mine  eyes  bandaged,  mine 
elbows  pinioned  at  my  side  in  that  fatall 
cloak  like  to  a  trussed  fowl,  and  so  I  was 
carried  to  where  the  ice  was  broken,  and 
thrust  into  a  boat.  Thence  I  was  con 
veyed  in  the  same  rude  sort  to  a  ship, 
dragged  up  her  smooth,  wet  side,  and 
clapt  under  hatches.  Here  I  lay  helpless 
as  in  a  swoon.  When  I  came  to,  it  was 
with  a  great  trampling  on  the  decks  above 
and  the  washing  of  waves  below,  and  I 
made  that  the  ship  was  moving  —  but 
where  I  knew  not.  After  a  little  space 


ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE    115 

the  hatch  was  lifted  from  where  I  lay,  the 
choke-pear  taken  from  my  mouth  ;  but 
not  the  bandage  from  mine  eyes,  so  I 
could  see  nought  around  me.  But  I 
heard  a  strange  voice  say  :  "  What  coil  is 
this  ?  This  is  my  Lord's  cloak  in  sooth, 
but  not  my  Lord  that  lieth  in  it !  Who 
is  this  fellow  ?  "  At  which  I  did  naturally 
discover  the  great  misprise  of  those  varlets 
who  had  taken  me  for  my  dear  Lord, 
whom  I  now  damned  in  my  heart  for 
changing  of  the  cloaks  !  Howbeit,  when 
I  had  fetched  my  breath  with  difficulty, 
being  well  nigh  spent  by  reason  of  the 
gag,  I  replyed  that  I  was  John  Longbowe, 
my  Lord's  true  yeoman,  as  good  a  man 
as  any,  as  they  should  presently  discover 
when  they  set  me  ashore.  That  I  knew  — 
«  Softly,  friend,"  said  the  Voice,  « thou 
knowest  too  much  for  the  good  of 
England  and  too  little  for  thine  own 
needs.  Thou  shalt  be  sent  where  thou 
mayest  forget  the  one  and  improve  thy 


116    ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 

knowledge  of  the  other."  Then  as  if 
turning  to  those  about  him,  for  I  could 
not  see  by  reason  of  the  blindfold,  he 
next  said :  "  Take  him  on  your  voyage, 
and  see  that  he  escape  not  till  ye  are  quit 
of  England."  And  with  that  they  clapt 
to  the  hatch  again,  and  I  heard  him  cast 
off  from  the  ship's  side.  There  was  I, 
John  Longbowe,  an  English  yeoman,  —  I, 
who  but  that  day  had  held  converse  with 
Will  Shakespeare  and  been  cognizant  of 
the  revels  of  Her  Most  Christian  Majesty 
even  to  the  spying  of  her  garter  !  —  I  was 
kidnapped  at  the  age  of  forty-five  or 
thereabout  —  for  I  will  not  be  certain  of 
the  year  —  and  forced  to  sea  for  that  my 
Lord  of  Southampton  had  provoked  the 
jealousie  and  envy  of  divers  other  great 
nobles. 


CHAPTERS  I  TO  XX 

I  AM  FORCED  TO  SEA  AND  TO  BECOME  A 
PIRATE  !  I  SUFFER  LAMENTABLY  FROM 
SICKNESS  BY  REASON  OF  THE  BIGNESSE 
OF  THE  WAVES.  I  COMMIT  MANY  CRU 
ELTIES  AND  BLOODSHED.  BUT  BY  THE 
DIVINE  INTERCESSION  I  EVENTUALLY 
THROW  THE  WICKED  CAPTAIN  OVER 
BOARD  AND  AM  ELECTED  IN  HIS  STEAD. 
I  DISCOVER  AN  ISLAND  OF  TREASURE, 
OBTAIN  POSSESSION  THEREOF  BY  A 
TRICKE,  AND  PUT  THE  NATIVES  TO  THE 
SWORD 

I  MARVEL  much  at  those  who  deem  it 
necessary  in  the  setting  down  of  their 
adventures  to  gloze  over  the  whiles  be- 
Jween  with  much  matter  of  the  country, 
the  peoples,  and  even  their  own  foolish 
reflections  thereon,  hoping  in  this  way  to 


118    ADVENTUKES   OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 

cozen  the  reader  with  a  belief  in  their  own 
truthfulness,  and  encrease  the  extrava 
gance  of  their  deeds.  I,  being  a  plain, 
blunt  man,  shall  simply  say  for  myself 
that  for  many  days  after  being  taken 
from  the  bilboes  and  made  free  of  the 
deck,  I  was  grievously  distempered  by 
reason  of  the  waves,  and  so  collapsed  in 
the  bowels  that  I  could  neither  eat,  stand, 
nor  lie.  Being  thus  in  great  fear  of  death, 
from  which  I  was  miraculously  preserved, 
I,  out  of  sheer  gratitude  to  my  Maker,  did 
incontinently  make  oath  and  sign  arti 
cles  to  be  one  of  the  crew  —  which  were 
buccaneers.  I  did  this  the  more  readily 
as  we  were  to  attack  the  ships  of  Spayne 
only,  and  through  there  being  no  state 
of  Warre  at  that  time  between  England 
and  that  country,  it  was  wisely  conceived 
that  this  conduct  would  provoke  it,  and 
we  should  thus  be  forearmed,  as  became 
a  juste  man  in  his  quarrel.  For  this  we 
had  the  precious  example  of  many  great 


ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE    119 

Captains.  We  did  therefore  heave  to  and 
burn  many  ships  —  the  quality  of  those 
engagements  I  do  not  set  forth,  not  hav 
ing  a  seaman's  use  of  ship  speech,  and 
despising,  as  a  plain,  blunt  man,  those 
who  misuse  it,  having  it  not. 

But  this  I  do  know,  that,  having  some 
conceit  of  a  shipman's  ways  and  of  pirates, 
I  did  conceive  at  this  time  a  pretty  song 
for  my  comradoes,  whereof  the  words  ran 
thus  :  — 

Yo  ho  !  when  the  Dog  Watch  bayeth  loud 

In  the  light  of  a  mid-sea  moon ! 
And  the  Dead  Eyes  glare  in  the  stiffening  Shroud, 

For  that  is  the  Pirate's  noon! 
When  the  Night  Mayres  sit  on  the  Dead  Man's  Chest 

Where  no  manne's  breath  may  come  — 
Then  hey  for  a  bottle  of  Rum!  Rum!  Rum! 

And  a  passage  to  Kingdom  come! 

I  take  no  credit  to  myself  for  the  same, 
except  so  far  as  it  may  shew  a  touch  of 
my  Lord  of  Southampton's  manner  —  we 
being  intimate  —  but  this  I  know,  that  it 
was  much  acclaimed  by  the  crew.  In- 


120    ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 

deed  they,  observing  that  the  Captain  was 
of  a  cruel  nature,  would  fain  kill  him  and 
put  me  in  his  stead,  but  I,  objecting  to 
the  shedding  of  precious  blood  in  such 
behoof,  did  prevent  such  a  lamentable  and 
inhuman  action  by  stealthily  throwing 
him  by  night  from  his  cabbin  window  into 
the  sea  —  where,  owing  to  the  inconceiv 
able  distance  of  the  ship  from  shore,  he 
was  presently  drowned.  •  Which  untoward 
fate  had  a  great  effect  upon  my  fortunes, 
since,  burthening  myself  with  his  goods 
and  effects,  I  found  in  his  chest  a  printed 
proclamation  from  an  aged  and  infirm 
clergyman  in  the  West  of  England  cove 
nanting  that,  for  the  sum  of  two  crowns, 
he  would  send  to  whoso  offered,  the  chart 
of  an  island  of  great  treasure  in  the  Span 
ish  Main,  whereof  he  had  had  confession 
from  the  lips  of  a  dying  parishioner,  and 
the  amount  gained  thereby  he  would  use 
for  the  restoration  of  his  parish  church. 
Now  I,  reading  this,  was  struck  by  a  great 


ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE    121 

remorse  and  admiration  for  our  late  Cap 
tain,  for  that  it  would  seem  that  he  was, 
like  myself,  a  staunch  upholder  of  the 
Protestant  Faith  and  the  Church  thereof, 
as  did  appear  by  his  possession  of  the 
chart,  for  which  he  had  no  doubt  paid  the 
two  good  crowns.  As  an  act  of  penance 
I  resolved  upon  finding  the  same  island 
by  the  aid  of  the  chart,  and  to  that  pur 
pose  sailed  East  many  days,  and  South, 
and  North,  and  West  as  many  other  days 
—  the  manner  whereof  and  the  latitude 
and  longitude  of  which  I  shall  not  burden 

o 

the  reader  with,  holding  it,  as  a  plain, 
blunt  man,  mere  padding  and  imperti 
nence  to  fill  out  my  narrative,  which  help- 
eth  not  the  general  reader.  So,  I  say, 
when  we  sighted  the  Island,  which  seemed 
to  be  swarming  with  savages,  I  ordered 
the  masts  to  be  stripped,  save  but  for  a 
single  sail  which  hung  sadly  and  distract 
edly,  and  otherwise  put  the  ship  into  the 
likeness  of  a  forlorn  wreck,  clapping  the 


122  ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 

men,  save  one  or  two,  under  hatches. 
This  I  did  to  prevent  the  shedding  of  pre 
cious  blood,  knowing  full  well  that  the 
ignorant  savages,  believing  the  ship  in 
sore  distress,  would  swim  off  to  her  with 
provisions  and  fruit,  bearing  no  arms. 
Which  they  did,  while  we,  as  fast  as  they 
clomb  the  sides,  despatched  them  at  lei 
sure,  without  unseemly  outcry  or  alarms. 
Having  thus  disposed  of  the  most  adven 
turous,  we  landed  and  took  possession  of 
the  island,  finding  thereon  many  kegs  of 
carbuncles  and  rubies  and  pieces  of  eight 

—  the    treasure    store    of    those   lawless 
pirates  who  infest   the   seas,  having  no 
colour  of  war  or  teaching  of  civilisation  to 
atone  for  their  horrid  deeds. 

I  discovered  also,  by  an  omission  in  the 
chart,  that  this  was  not  the  Island  wot  of 
by  the  good  and  aged  Devonshire  divine 

—  and    so  we  eased  our  consciences  of 
accounting  for  the  treasure  to  him.     We 
then   sailed   away,   arriving   after   many 


ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE     123 

years'  absence  at  the  Port  of  Bristol  in 
Merrie  England,  where  I  took  leave  of  the 
"  Jolly  Roger,"  that  being  the  name  of  my 
ship ;  it  was  a  strange  conceit  of  seamen 
in  after  years  ever  to  call  the  device  of  my 
flag  —  to  wit,  a  skull  and  bones  made  in 
the  sign  of  a  Cross  —  by  the  name  my 
ship  bore,  and  if  I  have  only  corrected 
the  misuse  of  history  by  lying  knaves,  I 
shall  be  content  with  this  writing.  But 
alas  !  such  are  the  uncertainties  of  time ; 
I  found  my  good  Lord  of  Southampton 
dead  and  most  of  his  friends  beheaded, 
and  the  blessed  King  James  of  Scotland  — 
if  I  mistake  not,  for  these  also  be  the  un 
certainties  of  time  —  on  the  throne.  In 
due  time  I  married  Mistress  Marian  Strait- 
ways.  I  might  have  told  more  of  trifling, 
and  how  she  fared,  poor  wench  !  in  mine 
absence,  even  to  the  following  of  me  in 
another  ship,  in  a  shipboy's  disguise,  and 
how  I  rescued  her  from  a  scheming  Pagan 
villain  ;  but,  as  a  plain,  blunt  man,  I  am 


124    ADVENTURES  OF  JOHN  LONGBOWE 


no  hand  at  the  weaving  of  puling  love 
tales  and  such  trifling  diversions  for  love 
sick  mayds  and  their  puny  gallants  — 
having  only  consideration  for  men  and 
their  deeds,  which  I  have  here  set  down 
bluntly  and  even  at  mine  advanced  years 
am  ready  to  maintain  with  the  hand  that 
set  it  down. 


DAN'L  BOREM 

BY  E.  N-S  W-T-T 


DAN'L  BOREM 

* 
I 

DAN'L  BOREM  poured  half  of  his  second 
cup  of  tea  abstractedly  into  his  lap. 

"  Guess  you  've  got  suthin'  on  yer  mind, 
Dan'l,"  said  his  sister. 

"  Mor  'n  likely  I  've  got  suthin'  on  my 
pants,"  returned  Dan'l  with  that  exqui 
sitely  dry,  though  somewhat  protracted 
humor  which  at  once  thrilled  and  bored 
his  acquaintances.  "  But  —  speakin'  o' 
that  hoss  trade"  — 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  don't !  "  inter 
rupted  his  sister  wearily ;  "  yer  allus  doin' 
it.  Jest  tell  me  about  that  young  man  — 
the  new  clerk  ye  think  o'  gettin'." 

"  Well,  I  telegraphed  him  to  come  over, 
arter  I  got  this  letter  from  him/'  he 


128  DAN'L  BOREM 

returned,  handing  her  a  letter.  "  Jtead  it 
out  loud." 

But  his  sister,  having  an  experienced 
horror  of  prolixity,  glanced  over  it.  "  Far 
as  I  kin  see  he  takes  mor'n  two  hundred 
words  to  say  you  've  got  to  take  him  on 
trust,  and  sez  it  suthin'  in  a  style  betwixt 
a  business  circular  and  them  Polite  Letter 
Writers.  I  thought  you  allowed  he  was 
a  tony  feller." 

"  Ef  he  does  not  brag  much,  ye  see,  I 
kin  offer  him  small  wages,"  said  Dan'l, 
with  a  wink.  "  It 's  kinder  takin'  him  at 
his  own  figger." 

"  And  that  might  n't  pay !  But  ye  don't 
think  o'  bringin'  him  here  —  in  this 
house  ?  'Cept  you  're  thinkin'  o'  tellin' 
him  that  yarn  o'  yours  about  the  hoss 
trade  to  beguile  the  winter  evenings.  I 
told  ye  ye  'd  hev  to  pay  yet  to  get  folks 
to  listen  to  it." 

"  Wrong  agin  —  ez  you  '11  see  !  Wot 
ef  I  get  a  hundred  thousand  folks  to  pay 


DAN'L  BOREM  129 

me  fojfr  tellin'  it  ?  But,  speakin'  o'  this 
young  feller,  I  calkilated  to  send  him 
to  the  Turkey  Buzzard  Hotel ; "  and  he 
looked  at  his  sister  with  a  shrewd  yet 
humorous  smile. 

"  What !  "  said  his  sister  in  alarm.  "  The 
Turkey  Buzzard  !  Why,  he  '11  be  starved 
or  pizoned !  He  won't  stay  there  a  week." 

"  Ef  he  's  pizoned  to  death  he  won't  be 
able  to  demand  any  wages ;  ef  he  leaves 
because  he  can't  stand  it  —  it  's  proof 
positive  he  could  n't  stand  me.  Ef  he  's 
only  starved  and  made  weak  and  miser 
able  he  '11  be  easy  to  make  terms  with. 
It  may  seem  hard  what  I  'm  sayin',  but 
what  seems  bard  on  the  other  feller  al 
ways  comes  mighty  easy  to  you.  The 
thing  is  not  to  be  the  '  other  feller.'  Ye 
ain't  listenin'.  Yet  these  remarks  is 
shrewd  and  humorous,  and  hez  bin  thought 
so  by  literary  fellers." 

"  H'm  !  "  said  his  sister.  "  What  's 
that  ye  was  jest  sayin'  about  folks  bein' 


130  DAN'L  BOREM 

willin'  to  pay  ye  for  tellin'  that  boss  trade 
yarn  o'  yours?" 

"  Thet  's  only  what  one  o'  them  smart 
New  York  publishers  allowed  it  was  worth 
arter  hearin'  me  tell  it,"  said  Dan'l  dryly. 

"  Go  way !  You  or  him  must  be  crazy. 
Why,  it  ain't  ez  good  as  that  story  'bout 
a  man  who  had  a  balky  hoss  that  could 
be  made  to  go  only  by  buildin'  a  fire 
under  him,  and  arter  the  man  sells  that 
hoss  and  the  secret,  and  the  man  wot 
bought  him  tries  it  on,  the  blamed  hoss 
lies  down  over  the  fire,  and  puts  it 
out." 

"  I  've  allus  allowed  that  the  story  ye 
hev  to  tell  yourself  is  a  blamed  sight 
funnier  than  the  one  ye  're  listenin'  to," 
said  Dan'l.  "  Put  that  down  among  my 
say  in' s,  will  ye  ?  " 

"  But  your  story  was  never  anythin' 
more  than  one  o'  them  snippy  things  ye 
see  in  the  papers,  drored  out  to  no  end 
by  you.  It  's  only  one  o'  them  funny 


DAN'L  BOREM  131 

paragraphs  ye  kin  read  in  a  minit  in  the 
papers  that  takes  you  an  hour  to  tell." 

To  her  surprise  Dan'l  only  looked  at 
his  sister  with  complacency. 

"  That/'  he  said,  "  is  jest  what  the  New 
York  publisher  sez.  '  The  'Merrikan  peo 
ple/  sez  he,  'is  ashamed  o'  bein'  short 
and  peart  and  funny;  it  lacks  dignity/ 
sez  he ;  '  it  looks  funny/  sez  he,  ( but  it 
ain't  deep-seated  nash'nul  literature/  sez 
he.  '  Them  snips  o'  funny  stories  and 
short  dialogues  in  the  comic  papers  — 
they  make  ye  laff/  sez  he,  c  but  laffin' 
is  n't  no  sign  o'  deep  morril  purpose/  sez 
he,  c  and  it  ain't  genteel  and  refined. 
Abraham  Linkin  with  his  pat  anecdotes 
ruined  our  standin'  with  dignified  na- 
shuns/  sez  he.  (  We  cultivated  publishers^ 
is  sick  o'  hearin'  furrin'  nashuns  roarin' 
over  funny  'Merrikan  stories ;  we  're  goin' 
to  show  'em  that,  even  ef  we  have  n't 
classes  and  titles  and  sich,  we  kin  be  dull. 
We  're  workin'  the  historical  racket  for 


132  DAN'L  BOREM 

all  that  it 's  worth,  —  ef  we  can't  go 
back  mor'n  a  hundred  years  or  so,  we  kin 
rake  in  a  Lord  and  a  Lady  when  we  do, 
and  we  're  gettin'  in  some  ole-fashioned 
spellin'  and  "  methinkses  "  and  "  perad- 
ventures."  We  're  doin'  the  religious  biz- 
ness  ez  slick  ez  Eobert  Elsmere,  and  we 
find  lots  o'  soul  in  folks  —  and  heaps  o' 
quaint  morril  characters/  sez  he." 

"  Sakes  alive,  Dan'l !  "  broke  in  his 
sister ;  "  what  's  all  that  got  to  do  with 
your  yarn  'bout  the  hoss  trade  ?  " 

"  Everythin',"  returned  Dan'l.  "  <  For/ 
sez  he,  '  Mr.  Borem,'  sez  he,  '  you  're 
a  quaint  morril  character.  You  've  got 
protracted  humor,'  sez  he.  '  You  've  bin 
an  hour  tellin'  that  yarn  o'  yours  !  Ef 
ye  could  spin  it  out  to  fill  two  chapters 
of  a  book  —  yer  fortune  's  made  !  For 
you  '11  show  that  a  successful  hoss  trade 
involves  the  highest  nash'nul  character 
istics.  That  what  common  folk  calls 
"  selfishness/'  "  revenge,"  "  mean  lyin'/' 


DAN'L  BOREM  133 

and  "  low  -  down  money  -  grubbin'  am- 
bishun  "  is  really  "  quaintness,"  and  will 
go  in  double  harness  with  the  bizness  of 
a  Christian  banker/  sez  he." 

"Created  goodness,  Dan'l !  You  're 
designin'  ter  "  — 

Dan'l  Borem  rose,  coughed,  expecto 
rated  carefully  at  the  usual  spot  in  the 
fender,  his  general  custom  of  indicating 
the  conclusion  of  a  subject  or  an  inter 
view,  and  said  dryly  :  "  I  'm  thar !  " 


n 

To  return  to  the  writer  of  the  letter, 
whose  career  was  momentarily  cut  off  by 
the  episode  of  the  horse  trade  (who,  if  he 
had  previously  received  a  letter  written  by 
somebody  else  would  have  been  an  entirely 
different  person  and  not  in  this  novel  at 
all) :  John  Lummox  —  known  to  his  family 
as  "  the  perfect  Lummox  "  —  had  been 
two  years  in  college,  but  thought  it  rather 
fine  of  himself  —  a  habit  of  thought  in 
which  he  frequently  indulged  —  to  become 
a  clerk,  but  finally  got  tired  of  it,  and 
to  his  father's  relief  went  to  Europe  for 
a  couple  of  years,  returning  with  some 
knowledge  of  French  and  German,  and 
the  cutting  end  of  a  German  student's 
blunted  dueling  sword.  Having,  as  he 
felt,  thus  equipped  himself  for  the  hero 


DAN'L  BOREM  135 

of  an  American  "  Good  Society  "  novel, 
he  went  on  board  a  "  liner/'  where  there 
would  naturally  be  susceptible  young 
ladies.  One  he  thought  he  recognized 
as  a  girl  with  whom  he  used  to  play 
"  forfeits  "  in  the  vulgar  past  of  his  boy 
hood.  She  sat  at  his  tabl  accompanied 
by  another  lady  whose  husband  seemed  to 
be  a  confirmed  dyspeptic.  His  remarks 
struck  Lummox  as  peculiar. 

"  Shall  I  begin  dinner  with  pudding 
and  cheese  or  take  the  ordinary  soup  first  ? 
I  quite  forget  which  I  did  last  night/'  he 
said  anxiously  to  his  wife. 

But  Mrs.  Starling  hesitated. 

"  Tell  me,  Mary/'  he  said,  appealing  to 
Miss  Bike,  the  young  lady. 

"  I  should  begin  with  the  pudding," 
said  Miss  Bike  decisively,  "  and  between 
that  and  the  arrival  of  the  cheese  you  can 
make  up  your  mind,  and  then,  if  you  think 
better,  go  back  to  the  soup." 

"Thank  you    so  much.     Now,   as   to 


136  DAN'L  BOREM 

drink  ?  Shall  I  take  the  Friedrichshalle 
first  or  the  Benedictine  ?  You  know  the 
doctor  insists  upon  the  Friedrichshalle, 
but  I  don't  think  I  did  well  to  mix  them 
as  I  did  yesterday.  Or  shall  I  take  simply 
milk  and  beer  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  simplicity  was  best.  Be 
sides,  you  can  always  fill  up  with  cham 
pagne  later." 

How  splendidly  this  clear-headed,  clear- 
eyed  girl  dominated  the  man  !  Lummox 
felt  that  really  he  might  renew  her  ac 
quaintance  !  He  did  so. 

"  I  remembered  you/'  she  said. 
"  You  've  not  changed  a  bit  since  you 
were  eight  years  old." 

John,  wishing  to  change  the  subject, 
said  that  he  thought  Mr.  Starling  seemed 
an  uncertain  man. 

"  Very  !  He  's  even  now  in  his  state 
room  sitting  in  his  pyjamas  with  a  rubber 
shoe  on  one  foot  and  a  pump  on  the  other, 
wondering  whether  he  ought  to  put  on 


DAN'L  BOREM  137 

golf  knickerbockers  with  a  dressing-gown 
and  straw  hat  before  he  comes  on  deck. 
He  has  already  put  on  and  taken  off  about 
twenty  suits." 

"  He  certainly  is  very  trying,"  returned 
Lummox.  He  paused  and  colored  deeply. 
"  I  beg,"  he  stammered,  "  I  hope  —  you 
don't  think  me  guilty  of  a  pun  !  When 
I  said  '  trying '  I  referred  entirely  to  the 
effect  on  your  sensitiveness  of  these  ten 
tative  attempts  toward  clothing  himself." 

"  I  should  never  accuse  you  of  levity, 
Mr.  Lummox,"  said  the  young  lady,  gaz 
ing  thoughtfully  upon  his  calm  but  some 
what  heavy  features,  —  "  never." 

Yet  he  would  have  liked  to  reclaim  him 
self  by  a  show  of  lightness.  He  was  lean 
ing  on  the  rail  looking  at  the  sea.  The 
scene  was  beautiful. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  rolling  with  the 
sea  and  his  early  studies  of  Doctor  John 
son,  "  that  one  would  in  the  more  supe 
rior  manner  show  his  appreciation  of  all 


138  DAN'L  BOREM 

this  by  refraining  from  the  obvious  com 
ment  which  must  needs  be  recognized  as 
comparatively  commonplace  and  vulgar ; 
but  really  this  is  so  superb  that  I  must 
express  some  of  my  emotion,  even  at  the 
risk  of  lowering  your  opinion  of  my  good 
taste,  provided,  of  course,  that  you  have 
any  opinion  on  the  one  hand  or  aiiy  good 
taste  on  the  other." 

"  Without  that  undue  depreciation  of 
one's  self  which  must  ever  be  a  sign  of 
self-conscious  demerit,  said  the  young 
girl  lightly,  "  I  ma^  say  that  I  am  not 
generally  good  at  Johnsonese ;  but  it  may 
relieve  your  mind  to  know  that  had  you 
kept  silence  one  instant  longer,  I  should 
have  taken  the  risk  of  lowering  your  opin 
ion  of  my  taste,  provided,  of  course,  that 
you  have  one  to  lower  and  are  capable  of 
that  exertion  — if  such  indeed  it  may  be 
termed  —  by  remarking  that  this  is  per 
fectly  magnificent." 

"  Do  you  think,"  he  said  gloomily,  still 


DAN*L  BOREM  139 

leaning  on  the  rail,  "  that  we  can  keep 
this  kind  of  thing  up  —  perhaps  I  should 
say  down  —  much  longer  ?     For  myself, 
I  am  feeling  far  from  well ;  it  may  have\ 
been  the  lobster  —  or  that  last  sentence^ 
—  but"- 

They  were  both  silent.  "  Yet/'  she 
said,  after  a  pause,  "  you  can  at  least  take 
Mr.  Starling  and  his  dyspepsia  off  my 
hands.  You  might  be  equal  to  that  exer 
tion." 

"  I  suppose  that  by  this  time  I  ought 
to  be  doing  something  for  somebody," 
he  said  thoughtfully.  "  Yes,  I  will." 

That  evening  after  dinner  he  took  Mr. 
Starling  into  the  smoking-room  and  card- 
room.  They  had  something  hot.  At  4 
A.  M.,  with  the  assistance  of  the  steward, 
he  projected  Mr.  Starling  into  Mrs.  Star 
ling's  stateroom,  delicately  withdrawing 
to  evade  the  lady's  thanks.  At  break 
fast  he  saw  Miss  Bike.  "  Thank  you  so 
much,"  she  said  ;  "  Mrs.  Starling  found 


140  DAN'L  BOREM 

Starling  greatly  improved.  He  himself 
admitted  he  was  '  never  berrer '  and,  far 
from  worrying  about  what  night-clothes 
he  should  wear,  went  to  bed  as  he  was  — 
1  even  to  his  hat.  Mrs.  Starling  calls  you 
6  her  preserver/  and  Mr.  Starling  distinctly 
stated  that  you  were  a  '  jolly-good-fler.'  ' 

"  And  you  ?  "  asked  John  Lummox. 

"  In  your  present  condition  of  abnormal 
self-consciousness  and  apperceptive  ego 
tism,  I  really  should  n't  like  to  say." 

When  the  voyage  was  ended  Mr.  Lum 
mox  went  to  see  Mary  Bike  at  her  house, 
and  his  father  —  whom  he  had  not  seen 
for  ten  years  —  at  his  house.  With  a 
refined  absence  of  natural  affection  he 
contented  himself  with  inquiring  of  the 
servants  as  to  his  father's  habits,  and  if 
he  still  wore  dress  clothes  at  dinner.  The 
information  thus  elicited  forced  him  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  old  gentleman's 
circumstances  were  reduced,  and  that  it 
was  possible  that  he,  John  Lummox,  might 


DAN'L  BOREM  141 

be  actually  compelled  to  earn  his  own 
living.  He  communicated  that  suspicion 
to  his  father  at  dinner,  and  over  the 
last  bottle  of  "  Mouton,"  a  circumstance 
which  also  had  determined  him  in  his 
resolution.  "  You  might/'  said  his  father 
thoughtfully,  "  offer  yourself  to  some  ris 
ing  American  novelist  as  a  study  for  the 
new  hero,  —  one  absolutely  without  am 
bition,  capacity,  or  energy ;  willing,  how 
ever,  to  be  whatever  the  novelist  chooses 
to  make  him,  so  long  as  he  has  n't  to 
choose  for  himself.  If  your  inordinate 
self-consciousness  is  still  in  your  way,  I 
could  give  him  a  few  points  about  you, 
myself." 

"I  had  thought,"  said  John,  hesitat 
ingly,  "  of  going  into  your  office  and  be 
coming  your  partner  in  the  business.  You 
could  always  look  after  me,  you  know." 

A  shudder  passed  over  the  old  man. 
Then  he  tremblingly  muttered  to  himself  : 

"  Thank  heaven !     There  is  one  way  it 


142  DAN'L  BOREM 

may  still  be  averted !  "  Retiring  to  his 
room  he  calmly  committed  suicide,  thought 
fully  leaving  the  empty  poison  bottle  in 
the  fender. 

And  this  is  how  John  Lummox  came  to 
offer  himself  as  a  clerk  to  Dan'l  Borem. 
The  ways  of  Providence  are  indeed  strange, 
yet  those  of  the  novelist  are  only  occa 
sionally  novel. 


Ill 

JOHN  K.  LUMMOX  lived  for  a  week 
at  the  Turkey  Buzzard  Hotel  exclusively 
on  doughnuts,  and  innuendoes.  He  was 
informed  by  Mr.  Borem's  clerk  —  whose 
place  he  was  to  fill  —  that  he  wouldn't 
be  able  to  stand  it,  and  thus  received  the 
character  of  his  employer  from  his  last 
employee. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Dan'l  Borem,  chuck 
ling,  "  that  he  said  I  was  a  old  skinflint, 
good  only  at  a  hoss  trade,  uneddicated, 
ignorant,  and  unable  to  keep  accounts, 
and  an  oppressor  o'  the  widder  and  or 
phan.  Allowed  that  my  cute  sayin's  was 
a  kind  o'  ten-cent  parody  o'  them  proverbs 
in  Poor  Richard's  Almanack  ! " 

"  Omitting  a  few  expletives,  he  certainly 
did/'  returned  Lummox  with  great  deli 
cacy. 


144  DAN'L  BOREM 

"  He  allowed  to  me/'  said  Dan'l  thought 
fully,  "  that  you  was  a  poor  critter  that 
had  n't  a  single  reason  to  show  for  livin' : 
that  the  fool-killer  had  bin  shadderin' 
you  from  your  birth,  and  that  you  had  n't 
paid  a  cent  profit  on  your  father's  original 
investment  in '  ye,  nor  on  the  assessments 
he  'd  paid  on  ye  ever  since.  He  seems  to 
be  a  cute  feller  arter  all,  and  I  'm  rather 
sorry  he  's  leavin'." 

"  I  am  quite  willing  to  abandon  my  posi 
tion  in  his  favor,  now,"  said  Lummox  with 
alacrity. 

"  No,"  said  Dan'l,  rubbing  his  chin 
argumentatively  ;  "  the  only  way  for  us 
to  do  is  to  circumvent  him  like  in  a  boss 
trade  —  with  suthin'  unexpected.  When 
he  thinks  you're  goin'  to  sleep  in  the  shafts 
you'll  run  away;  and  when  he  thinks 
I  'm  vicious  I  '11  let  a  woman  or  a  child 
drive  me." 


IV 

"  WELL,  Dan'l,  how  's  that  new  clerk 
o'  yours  gettin'  on  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Bigby  a 
week  later. 

"  Purty  fine  !  He  's  good  at  accounts 
and  hez  got  to  know  the  Bank's  customers 
by  this  time.  But  I  allus  reckoned  he  'd 
get  stuck  with  some  o'  them  counterfeit 
notes  —  and  he  hez  !  Ye  see  he  ain't  ac 
customed  to  look  at  a  five  or  a  ten  dollar 
note  as  sharp  as  some  men,  and  he 's 
already  taken  in  two  tens  and  a  five  coun 
terfeits." 

"Gracious!"  said  Mrs.  Bigsby.  "What 
did  the  poor  feller  do?" 

"  Oh,  he  ups  and  tells  me,  all  right, 
after  he  discovered  it.  And  sez  he  :  '  I  've 
charged  my  account  with  'em,'  sez  he, '  so 
the  Bank  won't  lose  it.'  " 


146  DAN'L  BOREM 

"  Why,  Dan'l,"  said  Mrs.  Bigsby,  "  ye 
did  n't  let  that  poor  feller  "  — 

"  You  hoi'  on  !  "  said  her  brother ; 
"  business  is  business ;  but  I  sez  to  him  : 
'  Ye  oughter  put  it  down  to  Profit  and 
Loss  account.  Or  perhaps  we  '11  have  a 
chance  o'  gettin'  rid  o'  them,  —  not  in 
Noo  York,  where  folks  is  sharp,  but  here 
in  the  country,  and  then  ye  kin  credit 
yourself  with  the  amount  arter  you  've  got 
rid  o'  them.'  " 

"  Laws  !  I  'm  sorry  ye  did  that,  Dan'l," 
said  Mrs.  Bigsby. 

"  With  that  he  riz  up,"  continued  Dan'l, 
ignoring  his  sister,  "  and,  takin'  them 
counterfeit  notes  from  my  hand,  sez  he : 
'  Them  notes  belong  to  me  now,'  sez  he, 
( and  I  'm  goin'  to  destroy  'em/  And 
with  that  he  walks  over  to  the  fire  as  stiff 
as  a  poker,  and  held  them  notes  in  it  until 
they  were  burnt  clean  up." 

"Well,  but  that  was  honest  and  straight 
forward  in  him  !  "  said  Mrs.  Bigsby. 


DAN'L  BOREM  147 

"  Um  !  but  it  was  n't  business  —  and 
ye  see  "  —  Dan'l  paused  and  rubbed  his 
chin. 

"  Well,  go  on  !  "  said  Mrs.  Bigsby  im 
patiently. 

"  Well,  ye  see,  neither  him  nor  me  was 
very  smart  in  detectin'  counterfeits,  or 
even  knowin'  'em,  and  " — 

"Well!  For  goodness'  sake,  Dan'l, 
speak  out ! " 

"  Well  —  the  dum  fool  burnt  up  three 
good  bills,  and  we  neither  of  us  knew 
it!" 


THE  "  unexpected  "  which  Dan'l  Borem 
had  hinted  might  characterize  his  future 
conduct  was  first  intimated  by  his  treat 
ment  of  the  "  Widow  Cully,"  an  aged 
and  impoverished  woman  whose  property 
was  heavily  mortgaged  to  him.  He  had 
curtly  summoned  her  to  come  to  his  office 
on  Christmas  Day  and  settle  up.  Fright 
ened,  hopeless,  and  in  the  face  of  a  snow 
storm,  the  old  woman  attended,  but  was 
surprised  by  receiving  a  "  satisfaction 
piece  "  in  full  from  the  banker,  and  a 
gorgeous  Christmas  dinner.  "  All  the 
same,"  said  Mrs.  Bigsby  to  Lummox, 
"  Dan'l  might  hev  done  all  this  without 
frightenin'  the  poor  old  critter  into  a 
nervous  fever,  chillin'  her  through  by 
makin'  her  walk  two  miles  through  the 


DAN'L  BOREM  149 

snow,  and  keepin'  her  on  the  ragged 
edge  o'  despair  for  two  mortal  hours  ! 
But  it 's  his  humorous  way." 

"  Did  he  give  any  reason  for  being  so 
lenient  to  the  widow  ?  "  asked  Lummox. 

"  He  said  that  her  son  had  given  him 
a  core  of  his  apple  when  they  were  boy 
together.      Dan'l   ez    mighty  thoughtful 
o'  folks  that  was  kind  to  him  in  them 
days." 

"Is  that  ah1?"  said  Lummox,  aston 
ished. 

"  Well  —  I  've  kinder  thought  suthin' 
else,"  said  Mrs.  Bigsby  hesitatingly. 

«  What  ?  " 

"  That  its  bein'  Christmas  Day  —  and 
as  I  've  heard  tell  that  's  no  day  in  law, 
but  just  like  Sunday  —  Dan'l  mebbe 
thought  that  he  might  crawl  outer  that 
satisfaction  piece,  ef  he  ever  wanted  ter ! 
Dan'l  is  mighty  cute." 


VI 

MR.  JOHN  LUMMOX  was  not  behind 
his  employer  in  developing  unexpected 
traits  of  character.  Hitherto  holding 
aloof  from  his  neighbors  in  Old  Folks- 
ville,  he  suddenly  went  to  a  social  gather 
ing,  and  distinguished  himself  as  the 
principal  and  popular  guest  of  the  even 
ing.  As  Dan'l  Borem  afterward  told  his 
sister :  "  He  was  one  o'  them  Combina 
tion  Minstrels  and  Variety  Shows  in  one. 
He  sang  through  a  whole  opery,  made 
the  pianner  jest  howl,  gave  some  recita 
tions,  Casabianker  and  Betsy  and  I  are 
Out ;  imitated  all  them  tragedians ;  did 
tricks  with  cards  and  fetched  rabbits 
outer  hats,  besides  liftin'  the  pianner  with 
two  men  sittin'  on  it,  jest  by  his  teeth. 
Created  snakes !  "  said  Borem,  concluding 


DAN'L  BOREM  151 

his  account,  which  here  is  necessarily  ab 
breviated,  "  ef  he  learnt  all  that  in  his 
two  years  in  Europe  I  ain't  sayin'  any- 
thin'  more  agin'  eddication  and  furrin' 
travel  after  this !  Why,  the  next  day 
there  was  quite  a  run  on  the  Bank  jest  to 
see  him.  He  is  makin'  the  bizness  pop'lar." 

"  Then  ye  think  ye  '11  get  along  to 
gether?" 

"  I  reckon  we  '11  hitch  hosses,"  said 
Dan'l,  with  a  smile. 

A  few  weeks  later,  one  evening,  Dan'l 
Borem  sat  with  his  sister  alone.  John 
Lummox,  who  was  now  residing  with  them, 
was  attending  a  social  engagement.  Mrs. 
Bigsby  knew  that  Dan'l  had  something 
to  communicate,  but  knew  that  he  would 
do  so  in  his  own  way. 

"  Speakin'  o'  hoss  trades,"  he  began. 

"  We  was  n't  and  we  ain't  goin'  to," 
said  Mrs.  Bigsby  with  great  promptness. 
"  I  've  heard  enough  of  'em." 

"  But  this  here  one  hez  suthin'  to  do 


152  DAN'L  BOREM 

with  your  fr'en',  John  Lummox,"  said 
Dan'l,  with  a  chuckle. 

Mrs.  Bigsby  stared.  "  Go  on,  then," 
she  said,  "  but,  for  goodness'  sake,  cut  it 
short." 

Dan'l  threw  away  his  quid  and  replen 
ished  it  from  his  silver  tobacco  box.  Mrs. 
Bigsby  shuddered  slightly  as  she  recog 
nized  the  usual  preliminary  to  prolixity, 
but  determined,  as  far  as  possible,  to  make 
her  brother  brief. 

"It  mout  be  two  weeks  ago,"  began 
Dan'l,  "  that  I  see  John  Lummox  over  at 
Palmyra,  where  he  'd  bin  visitin'.  He 
was  drivin'  a  hoss,  the  beautifulest  crit 
ter  —  for  color  —  I  ever  saw.  It  was 
yaller,  with  mane  and  tail  a  kinder  golden, 
like  the  hair  o'  them  British  Blondes  that 
was  here  in  the  Variety  Show." 

"  Dan'l !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bigsby,  hor 
rified.  "  And  you  allowed  you  never  went 
thar  !  " 

"  Saw  'em  on  the  posters  —  and  mebbe 


DAN'L  BOREM  153 

the  color  was  a  little  brighter  thar,"  said 
Dan'l  carelessly  —  "  but  who  's  inter- 
ruptin'  now  ?  " 

"  Go  on,"  said  Mrs.  Bigsby. 

"  '  Got  a  fine  hoss  thar/  sez  I ;  '  reckon 
I  never  see  such  a  purty  color/  sez  I. 
'  He  is  purty/  sez  he,  '  per'aps  too  purty 
for  me  to  be  a-drivin',  but  he  is  n't  fast.' 
6 1  ain't  speakin'  o'  that/  sez  I ;  '  it 's  his 
looks  that  I  'm  talkin'  of  ;  whar  might  ye 
hev  got  him  ? '  '  He  was  offered  to  me 
by  a  fr'en'  o'  me  boyhood/  sez  he  ;  '  he  's 
SL  pinto  mustang/  sez  he,  '  from  Calif  orny, 
whar  they  breed  'em.'  '  What 's  a  pinto 
hoss  ? '  sez  I.  '  The  same  ez  a  calico  hoss/ 
sez  he  ;  '  what  they  have  in  cirkises,  but 
ye  never  see  'em  that  color.'  En  he  was 
right,  for  when  I  looked  him  over  I  never 
did  see  such  a  soft  and  silky  coat,  and  his 
mane  and  tail  jest  glistened.  '  It  is  a  lit 
tle  too  showy  for  ye/  sez  I,  '  but  /  might 
take  him  at  a  fair  price.  What 's  your 
fr'en'  askin' ? '  '  He  won't  sell  him  to 


154  DAN'L  BOREM 

anybody  but  me,'  sez  Lummox  ;  f  he 's  a 
horror  o'  hoss  traders,  anyway,  and  his 
price  is  more  like  a  gift  to  a  fr'enY 
'  What  might  that  price  be,  ef  it 's  a  fair 
question  ? '  sez  I,  for  the  more  I  looked 
at  the  hoss  the  more  I  liked  him.  c  A 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,'  sez  he ;  '  but 
my  fr'en'  would  ask  you  double  that.' 
'  Could  n't  you  and  me  make  a  trade  ? ' 
sez  I ;  <  I  '11  exchange  ye  that  roan  mare, 
that 's  worth  two  hundred,  for  this  hoss 
and  fifty  dollars.'  With  that  he  drew 
himself  up,  and  sez  he :  '  Mr.  Borein,' 
sez  he,  '  I  share  my  fr'en's  opinion  about 
hoss  tradin',  and  I  promised  my  mother 
I  'd  never  swap  hosses.  You  ought  to 
know  me  by  this  time.'  ' 

"  That 's  so  !  "  said  Mrs.  Bigsby ;  "  I'm 
wonderin'  ye  dared  to  ax  him." 

Dan'l  passed  his  hand  over  his  mouth, 
and  continued  :  "  '  I  dunno  but  you  're 
right,  Lummox,'  sez  I ;  '  per'aps  it 's  jest 
as  well  as  thar  was  n't  two  in  the  Bank  in 


DAN'L  BOREM  155 

that  bizness.'  But  the  more  I  looked  at 
the  hoss  the  more  I  hankered  arter  him. 
'  Look  here,'  sez  I,  '  I  tell  ye  what  I  '11 
do  !  I  '11  lend  you  my  hoss  and  you  '11 
lend  me  yourn.  I  '11  draw  up  a  paper  to 
that  effect,  and  provide  that  in  case  o' 
accidents,  ef  I  don't  return  you  your  hoss, 
I  '11  agree  to  pay  you  a  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars.  You'll  give  me  the  same  kind 
o'  paper  about  my  hoss  —  with  the  pro 
viso  that  you  pay  me  two  hundred  for 
him  ! '  (  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Borem,'  sez  he, 
<  but  that  difference  of  fifty  makes  a  hoss 
trade  accordin'  to  my  mind.  It 's  agin' 
my  principles  to  make  such  an  agree 
ment.'  " 

"  An'  he  was  right,  Dan'l,"  said  Mrs. 
Bigsby  approvingly. 

But  Dan'l  wiped  his  mouth  again,  leav 
ing,  however,  a  singular  smile  on  it. 
"  Well,  ez  I  wanted  that  hoss,  I  jest 
thought  and  thought !  I  knew  I  could 
get  two  hundred  and  fifty  for  him  easy, 


156  DAN'L  BOREM 

and  that  Lummox  did  n't  know  anythin' 
of  his  valoo,  and  I  finally  agreed  to  make 
the  swap  even.  '  What  do  you  call  him?' 
sez  I.  '  Pegasus/  sez  he,  —  ( the  poet's 
hoss,  on  account  o'  his  golden  mane/  sez 
he.  That  made  me  laff,  for  I  never  knew 
a  poet  ez  could  afford  to  hev  a  hoss,  — 
much  less  one  like  that !  But  I  said  : 
'  I  '11  borry  Pegasus  o'  you  on  those  terms.' 
The  next  day  I  took  the  hoss  to  Jonesville ; 
Lummox  was  right :  he  was  n't  fast,  but, 
jest  as  I  expected,  he  made  a  sensation  ! 
Folks  crowded  round  him  whenever  I 
stopped ;  wimmin  followed  him  and  chil 
dren  cried  for  him.  I  could  hev  sold 
him  for  three  hundred  without  leavin' 
town !  '  So  ye  call  him  Pegasus/  sez 
Doc  Smith,  grinnin' ;  '  I  did  n't  known 
ye  was  subject  to  the  divine  afflatus,  Dan'l.' 
'  I  don'  offen  hev  it/  sez  I,  '  but  when 
I  do  I  find  a  little  straight  gin  does  me 
good.'  '  So  did  Byron/  sez  he,  chucklin'. 
But  even  if  I  had  called  him  'Beelze- 


DAN'L  BOREM  157 

bub'  tbe  hull  town  would  hev  bin  jest  as 
crazy  over  him.  Well,  as  it  was  comin'  on 
to  rain  I  started  jest  after  sundown  for 
home.  But  it  came  ter  blow,  an'  ter  pour 
cats  and  dogs,  an'  I  was  nigh  washed  out 
o'  the  buggy,  besides  losin'  my  way  and 
gettin'  inter  ditches  and  puddles,  and  I 
hed  to  stop  at  Staples'  Half-Way  House 
and  put  up  for  the  night.  In  the  mornin' 
I  riz  up  early  and  goes  into  the  stable 
yard,  and  the  first  thing  I  sees  was  the 
'ostler.  '  I  hope  ye  giv'  my  hoss  a  good 
scrub  down,'  I  .sez,  ( as  I  told  ye,  for  his 
color  is  that  delicate  the  smallest  spot 
shows.  It 's  a  very  rare  color  for  a  boss.' 
'  I  was  hopin'  it  might  be,'  sez  he.  I 
was  a  little  huffed  at  that,  and  I  sez: 
'  It 's  considered  a  very  beautiful  color.' 
'  Mebbe  it  is,'  sez  he,  (  but  I  never  cared 
much  for  fireworks.'  ( What  yer  mean  ? ' 
sez  I.  ( Look  here,  Squire  !  'sez  he ;  '  I 
don't  mind  scourin'  and  rubbin'  down  a 
hoss  that  will  stay  the  same  color  twice, 


158  DAN'L  BOKEM 

but  when  he  gets  to  playin'  a  kaladeo- 
skope  on  me,  I  kick ! '  '  Trot  him  out/ 
sez  I,  beginnin'  to  feel  queer.  With  that 
he  fetched  out  the  hoss  !  For  a  rninit  I 
hed  to  ketch  on  to  the  fence  to  keep  my 
self  from  fallin'.  I  swonny  !  ef  he  didn't 
look  like  a  case  of  measles  on  top  o'  yal- 
ler  fever  —  'cept  where  the  harness  had 
touched  him,  and  that  was  kinder  sten 
ciled  out  all  over  him.  Thar  was  places 
whar  the  'ostler  had  washed  down  to  the 
foundation  color,  a  kind  o'  chewed  lico 
rice  !  Then  I  knew  that  somebody  had  bin 
sold  terrible,  and  I  reckoned  it  might  be 
me  !  But  I  said  nothin'  to  the  'ostler,  and 
waited  until  dark,  when  I  drove  him  over 
here,  and  put  him  in  the  stables,  lettin' 
no  one  see  him.  In  the  mornin'  Lummox 
comes  to  me,  and  sez  he :  '  I  'm  glad  to 
see  you  back,'  sez  he,  f  for  my  conscience 
is  troublin'  me  about  that  hoss  agreement; 
it  looks  too  much  like  a  hoss  trade,'  sez  he, 
6  and  I  'm  goin'  to  send  the  hoss  back.' 


DAN'L  BOREM  159 

6  Mebbe  your  conscience/  sez  I,  '  may 
trouble  you  a  little  more  ef  you  '11  step 
this  way  ; '  and  with  that  I  takes  his  arm 
and  leads  him  round  to  the  stable  and 
brings  out  the  hoss. 

"  Well,  Lummox  never  changes  ez 
much  as  a  hair,  ez  he  puts  up  his  eye 
glasses.  '  I  'm  not  good  at  what 's  called 
"  Pop'lar  Art,"  '  sez  he.  (  Is  it  a  chromo, 
or  your  own  work  ?  '  sez  he,  critical  like. 

"  '  It 's  your  hoss,'  sez  I. 

"  He  looks  at  me  a  minit  and  then  drors 
a  paper  from  his  pocket.  '  This  paper/ 
sez  he  in  his  quiet  way,  '  was  drored  up 
by  you  and  is  a  covenant  to  return  to  me 
a  yaller  hoss  with  golden  mane  and  tail  — 
or  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  Ez  I 
don't  see  the  hoss  anywhere  —  mebbe 
you  've  got  the  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
handy  ? '  sez  he.  '  Suppose  I  had  n't  the 
money?'  sez  I.  (I  should  be  obliged/ 
sez  he  in  a  kind  o'  pained  Christian- 
martyr  way,  '  ter  sell  your  hoss  for  two 


160  DAN'L  BOREM 

hundred,  and  send  the  money  to  my 
fr'en'.'  We  looked  at  each  other  steddy 
for  a  minit  and  then  I  counts  him  out  a 
hundred  and  fifty.  He  took  the  money 
sad-like  and  then  sez  :  '  Mr.  Borem,'  sez 
he,  '  this  is  a  great  morril  lesson  to  us/ 
and  went  back  to  the  office.  In  the  arter- 
noon  I  called  in  an  old  hoss  dealer  that 
I  knew  and  shows  him  Pegasus. 

"  '  He  wants  renewin','  sez  he. 

"  '  Wot 's  that?'  sez  I. 

" '  A  few  more  bottles  o'  that  British 
Blonde  Hair  Dye  to  set  him  up  ag'in. 
That 's  wot  they  allus  do  in  the  cirkis, 
whar  he  kem  from.' 

"  Then  I  went  back  to  the  office  and  I 
took  down  my  sign.  ( What 's  that  you  're 
doin'  ? '  sez  Lummox,  with  a  sickly  kind 
o'  smile.  ( Are  you  goin'  out  o'  the  biz- 
ness?' 

" e  No,  I  'm  only  goin'  to  change  that 
sign  from  "  Dan'l  Borem "  to  "  Borem 
and  Lummox,"  '  sez  I.  f  I  've  concluded 


DAN'L  BOREM  161 

it 's  cheaper  for  me  to  take  you  inter  part 
nership  now  than  to  continue  in  this  way, 
which  would  only  end  in  your  hevin'  to 
take  me  in  later.  I  preferred  to  do  it 

fust:  " 


VII 

A  RICH  man,  and  settled  in  business, 
John  Lummox  concluded  that  he  would 
marry  Mary  Bike.  With  that  far-sighted 
logic  which  had  always  characterized  him 
he  reasoned  that,  having  first  met  her  on 
a  liner,  he  would  find  her  again  on  one 
if  he  took  passage  to  Europe.  He  did  — 
but  she  was  down  on  the  passenger  list  as 
Mrs.  Edwin  Wraggles.  The  result  of  their 
interview  was  given  to  Mrs.  Bigsby  by 
Dan'l  Borem  in  his  own  dialect. 

"  Ez  far  as  I  kin  see,  it  was  like  the 
Deacon's  Sunday  hoss  trade,  bein'  all  '  Ef 
it  wassent.'  '  Ef  ye  was  n't  Mrs.  Wrag 
gles,'  sez  Lummox,  sez  he,  ( I  'd  be  tellin' 
ye  how  I  've  loved  ye  ever  sence  I  first 
seed  ye.  Ef  ye  wasn't  Mrs.  Wraggles, 
I  'd  be  squeezin'  yer  hand,'  sez  he  ;  *  ef 


DAN'L  BOREM  163 

ye  was  n't  Mrs.  Wraggles,  I  'd  be  askin' 
ye  to  marry  me.'  Then  the  gal  ups  and 
sez,  sez  she  :  '  But  I  ain't  Mrs.  Wraggles,' 
sez  she  ;  '  Mrs.  Wraggles  is  my  sister,  and 
could  n't  come,  so  I  'm  travelin'  on  her 
ticket,  and  that 's  how  my  name  is  Wrag 
gles  on  the  passenger  list.'  'But  why 
did  n't  ye  tell  me  so  at  once  ? '  sez  Lum 
mox.  '  This  is  an  episoode  o'  protracted 
humor,'  sez  she,  '  and  I'm  bound  to  have 
a  show  in  it  somehow  ! ' 

"  Well !  "  said  Mrs.  Bigsby  breathlessly ; 
"  then  he  did  marry  her  ?  " 

"  Darned  ef  I  know.  He  never  said 
so  straight  out  —  but  that 's  like  Lum- 


mox." 


STORIES  THREE 

BY  R-DY-D  K-PL-G 


FOR  SIMLA  REASONS 

SOME  people  say  that  improbable  things 
don't  necessarily  happen  in  India  —  but 
these  people  never  find  improbabilities 
anywhere.  This  sounds  clever,  but  you 
will  at  once  perceive  that  it  really  means 
the  opposite  of  what  I  intended  to  say. 
So  we  '11  drop  it.  What  I  am  trying  to 
tell  you  is  that  after,  Sparkley  had  that 
affair  with  Miss  Millikens  a  singular 
change  came  over  him.  He  grew  ab 
stracted  and  solitary,  —  holding  dark  se 
ances  with  himself,  —  which  was  odd,  as 
everybody  knew  he  never  cared  a  rap  for 
the  Millikens  girl.  It  was  even  said  that 
he  was  off  his  head  —  which  is  rhyme. 
But  his  reason  was  undoubtedly  affected, 
for  he  had  been  heard  to  mutter  incoher- 


168  STORIES  THREE 

ently  at  the  Club,  and,  strangest  of  all,  to 
answer  questions  that  were  never  asked  ! 
This  was  so  awkward  in  that  Branch  of 
the  Civil  Department  of  which  he  was  a 
high  official  —  where  the  rule  was  exactly 
the  reverse  —  that  he  was  presently  in 
valided  on  full  pay !  Then  he  disap 
peared.  Clever  people  said  it  was  be 
cause  the  Department  was  afraid  he  had 
still  much  to  answer  for ;  stupid  people 
simply  envied  him. 

Mrs.  Awksby,  whom  everybody  knew 
had  been  the  cause  of  breaking  off  the 
match,  was  now  wild  to  know  the  reason 
of  Sparkley's  retirement.  She  attacked 
heaven  and  earth,  and  even  went  a  step 
higher  —  to  the  Viceroy.  At  the  vice 
regal  ball  I  saw,  behind  the  curtains  of 
a  window,  her  rolling  violet-blue  eyes 
with  a  singular  glitter  in  them.  It  was 
the  reflection  of  the  Viceroy's  star,  al 
though  the  rest  of  his  Excellency  was 
hidden  in  the  curtain.  I  heard  him  say- 


STORIES  THREE  169 

ing,  "  Come  now !   really,  now,  you  are 

—  you  know  you  are  ! "  in  reply  to  her 
cooing  questioning.     Then  she   made  a 
dash  at  me  and  captured  me. 

"What  did  you  hear?" 

"  Nothing  I  should  not  have  heard/' 

"  Don't  be  like  all  the  other  men  — 
you  silly  boy  !  "  she  answered.  "  I  was 
only  trying  to  find  out  something  about 
Sparkley.  And  I  will  find  it  out,  too," 
she  said,  clinching  her  thin  little  hand. 
"  And  what 's  more,"  she  added,  turning 
on  me  suddenly,  "  you  shall  help  me !  " 

"  I  ?  "  I  said  in  surprise. 

"  Don't  pretend  !  "  she  said  poutingly. 
"  You  're  too  clever  to  believe  he  's  cut 
up  over  the  Millikens.  No  —  it 's  some 
thing  awful  or  —  another  woman  !  Now, 
if  I  knew  as  much  of  India  as  you  do 

—  and  was  n't  a  woman,  and  could  go 
where  I  liked  —  I  'd  go  to  Bungloore  and 
find  him." 

"  Oh  !    You  have  his  address  ?  "  I  said. 


170  STORIES  THREE 

"  Certainly  !  What  did  you  expect  I 
was  behind  the  curtain  with  the  Viceroy 
for  ?  "  she  said,  opening  her  violet  eyes 
innocently.  "  It  's  Bungloore  —  First 
Turning  to  the  Right  —  At  the  End  of 
the  Passage." 

Bungloore  —  near  Ghouli  Pass  —  in 
the  Jungle  !  I  knew  the  place,  a  spot 
of  dank  pestilence  and  mystery.  "You 
never  could  have  gone  there,"  I  said. 

"  You  do  not  know  what  I  could  do 
for  a  friend,"  she  said  sweetly,  veiling 
her  eyes  in  demure  significance. 

"  Oh,  come  off  the  roof  !  "  I  said  bluntly. 

She  could  be  obedient  when  it  was 
necessary.  She  came  off.  Not  without 
her  revenge.  "  Try  to  remember  you  are 
not  at  school  with  the  Stalkies,"  she  said, 
and  turned  away. 

I  went  to  Bungloore,« — not  on  her 
account,  but  my  own.  If  you  don't  know 
India,  you  won't  know  Bungloore.  It  's 
all  that  and  more.  An  egg  dropped  by 


STORIES  THREE  171 

a  vulture,  sat  upon  and  addled  by  the  De 
partment.  But  I  knew  the  house  and 
walked  boldly  in.  A  lion  walked  out  of 
one  door  as  I  came  in  at  another.  We 
did  this  two  or  three  times  —  and  found 
it  amusing.  A  large  cobra  in  the  hall 
rose  up,  bowed  as  I  passed,  and  respect 
fully  removed  his  hood. 

I  found  the  poor  old  boy  at  the  end  of 
the  passage.  It  might  have  been  the 
passage  between  Calais  and  Dover,  —  he 
looked  so  green,  so  limp  and  dejected.  I 
affected  not  to  notice  it,  and  threw  myself 
in  a  chair. 

He  gazed  at  me  for  a  moment  and  then 
said,  "  Did  you  hear  what  the  chair  was 
saying  ?  " 

It  was  an  ordinary  bamboo  armchair, 
and  had  creaked  after  the  usual  fashion 
of  bamboo  chairs.  I  said  so. 

He  cast  his  eyes  to  the  ceiling.  "  He 
calls  it  '  creaking,'  "  he  murmured.  "  No 
matter,"  he  continued  aloud,  "  its  remark 


172  STORIES  THREE 

was  not  of  a  complimentary  nature.  It 's 
very  difficult  to  get  really  polite  furni 
ture." 

The  man  was  evidently  stark,  staring 
mad.  I  still  affected  not  to  observe  it, 
and  asked  him  if  that  was  why  he  left 
Simla. 

"  There  were  Simla  reasons,  certainly," 
he  replied.  "  But  you  think  I  came  here 
for  solitude  !  Solitude  !  "  he  repeated, 
with  a  laugh.  "  Why,  I  hold  daily  con 
versations  with  any  blessed  thing  in  this 
house,  from  the  veranda  to  the  chimney- 
stack,  with  any  stick  of  furniture,  from 
the  footstool  to  the  towel-horse.  I  get 
more  out  of  it  than  the  gabble  at  the  Club. 
You  look  surprised.  Listen  !  I  took  this 
thing  up  in  my  leisure  hours  in  the  De 
partment.  I  had  read  much  about  the 
conversation  of  animals.  I  argued  that 
if  animals  conversed,  why  should  n't  in 
animate  things  communicate  with  each 
other  ?  You  cannot  prove  that  animals 


STORIES  THREE  173 

don't  converse  —  neither  can  you  prove 
that  inanimate  objects  do  not.  See  ?  " 

I  was  thunderstruck  with  the  force  of 
his  logic. 

"  Of  course,"  he  continued,  "  there  are 
degrees  of  intelligence,  and  that  makes  it 
difficult.  For  instance,  a  mahogany  table 
would  not  talk  like  a  rush-bottomed  kitchen 
chair."  He  stopped  suddenly,  listened, 
and  replied,  "  I  really  could  n't  say." 

"  I  did  n't  speak,"  I  said. 

"  I  know  you  did  n't.  But  your  chair 
asked  me  '  how  long  that  fool  was  going 
to  stay.'  I  replied  as  you  heard.  Pray 
don't  move  —  I  intend  to  change  that 
chair  for  one  more  accustomed  to  polite 
society.  To  continue :  I  perfected  myself 
in  the  language,  and  it  was  awfully  jolly 
at  first.  Whenever  I  went  by  train,  I 
heard  not  only  all  the  engines  said,  but 
what  every  blessed  carriage  thought,  that 
joined  in  the  conversation.  If  you  chaps 
only  knew  what  rot  those  whistles  can  get 


174  STORIES  THREE 

off  !  And  as  for  the  brakes,  they  can  beat 
any  mule  driver  in  cursing.  Then,  after 
a  time,  it  got  rather  monotonous,  and  I 
took  a  short  sea  trip  for  my  health.  But, 
by  Jove,  every  blessed  inch  of  the  whole 
ship  —  from  the  screw  to  the  bowsprit  — 
had  something  to  say,  and  the  bad  lan 
guage  used  by  the  garboard  strake  when 
the  ship  rolled  was  something  too  awful ! 
You  don't  happen  to  know  what  the  gar- 
board  strake  is,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  replied. 

"  No  more  do  I.  That 's  the  dreadful 
thing  about  it.  You  Ve  got  to  listen  to 
chaps  that  you  don't  know.  Why,  com 
ing  home  on  my  bicycle  the  other  day 
there  was  an  awful  row  between  some  in 
fernal  '  sprocket '  and  the  '  ball  bearings  ' 
of  the  machine,  and  I  never  knew  before 
there  were  such  things  in  the  whole  con 


cern." 


I  thought  I  had  got  at  his  secret,  and 
said  carelessly  :  "  Then  I  suppose  this  was 


STORIES  THREE  175 

the  reason  why  you  broke  off  your  engage 
ment  with  Miss  Millikens  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  said  coolly.  "  Nothing 
to  do  with  it.  That  is  quite  another  affair. 
It 's  a  very  queer  story ;  would  you  like 
to  hear  it  ?  " 

66  By  all  means."  I  took  out  my  note 
book. 

"  You  remember  that  night  of  the  Ama 
teur  Theatricals,  got  up  by  the  White 
Hussars,  when  the  lights  suddenly  went 
out  all  over  the  house  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "  I  heard  about  it." 

"Well,  I  had  gone  down  there  that 
evening  with  the  determination  of  propos 
ing  to  Mary  Millikens  the  first  chance  that 
offered.  She  sat  just  in  front  of  me,  her 
sister  Jane  next,  and  her  mother,  smart 
Widow  Millikens, —  who  was  a  bit  larky 
on  her  own  account,  you  remember,  —  the 
next  on  the  bench.  When  the  lights  went 
out  and  the  panic  and  tittering  began,  I 
saw  my  chance !  I  leaned  forward,  and 


176  STORIES  THREE 

in  a  voice  that  would  just  reach  Mary's 
ear  I  said,  c  I  have  long  wished  to  tell  you 
how  my  life  is  bound  up  with  you,  dear, 
and  I  never,  never  can  be  happy  without 
you'  —  when  just  then  there  was  a  mighty 
big  shove  down  my  bench  from  the  fellows 
beyond  me,  who  were  trying  to  get  out. 
But  I  held  on  like  grim  death,  and  strug 
gled  back  again  into  position,  and  went 
on  :  '  You  '11  forgive  my  taking  a  chance 
like  this,  but  I  felt  I  could  no  longer  con 
ceal  my  love  for  you,'  when  I  'm  blest  if 
there  wasn't  another  shove,  and  though 
I  'd  got  hold  of  her  little  hand  and  had  a 
kind  of  squeeze  in  return,  I  was  drifted 
away  again  and  had  to  fight  my  way  back. 
But  I  managed  to  finish,  and  said,  '  If 
the  devotion  of  a  lifetime  will  atone  for 
this  hurried  avowal  of  my  love  for  you, 
let  me  hope  for  a  response,'  and  just 
then  the  infernal  lights  were  turned  on, 
and  there  I  was  holding  the  widow's  hand 
and  she  nestling  on  my  shoulder,  and  the 


STORIES  THREE  177 

two  girls  in  hysterics  on  the  other  side. 
You  see,  I  never  knew  that  they  were 
shoved  down  on  their  bench  every  time, 
just  as  I  was,  and  of  course  when  I  got 
back  to  where  I  was  I  'd  just  skipped  one 
of  them  each  time !  Yes,  sir !  I  had 
made  that  proposal  in  three  sections  —  a 
part  to  each  girl,  winding  up  with  the 
mother !  No  explanation  was  possible, 
and  I  left  Simla  next  day.  Naturally,  it 
wasn't  a  thing  they  could  talk  about, 
either  !  " 

"  Then  you  think  Mrs.  Awksby  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Nothing  —  absolutely  nothing.  By 
the  way,  if  you  see  that  lady,  you  might 
tell  her  that  I  have  possession  of  that 
brocade  easy-chair  which  used  to  stand  in 
the  corner  of  her  boudoir.  You  remem 
ber  it,  —  faded  white  and  yellow,  with  one 
of  the  casters  off  and  a  little  frayed  at  the 
back,  but  rather  soft-spoken  and  amiable  ? 
But  of  course  you  don't  understand  that. 


178  STORIES  THREE 

I  bought  it  after  she  moved  into  her  new 
bungalow." 

"But  why  should  I  tell  her  that?"  I 
asked  in  wonder. 

"  Nothing  —  except  that  I  find  it  very 
amusing  with  its  reminiscences  of  the  com 
pany  she  used  to  entertain,  and  her  confi 
dences  generally.  Good-by  —  take  care 
of  the  lion  in  the  hall.  He  always  couches 
on  the  left  for  a  spring.  Ta-ta  !  " 

I  hurried  away.  When  I  returned  to 
Simla  I  told  Mrs.  Awksby  of  my  discov 
eries,  and  spoke  of  the  armchair. 

I  fancied  she  colored  slightly,  but 
quickly  recovered. 

"  Dear  old  Sparkley,"  she  said  sweetly ; 
"  he  was  a  champion  liar  !  " 


n 

A  PRIVATE'S  HONOR 

I  HAD  not  seen  Mulledwiney  for  several 
days.  Knowing  the  man  —  this  looked 
bad.  So  I  dropped  in  on  the  Colonel. 
I  found  him  in  deep  thought.  This  looked 
bad,  too,  for  old  Cockey  Wax  —  as  he 
was  known  to  everybody  in  the  Hill  dis 
tricts  but  himself  —  was  n't  given  to 
thinking.  I  guessed  the  cause  and  told 
him  so. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  wearily,  "  you  are  right ! 
It 's  the  old  story.  Mulledwiney,  Blear- 
eyed,  and  Otherwise  are  at  it  again, — 
drink  followed  by  Clink.  Even  now  two 
corporals  and  a  private  are  sitting  on 
Mulledwiney's  head  to  keep  him  quiet, 
and  Bleareyed  is  chained  to  an  elephant." 

"  Perhaps,"  I  suggested,  "  you  are  un 
necessarily  severe." 


180  STORIES  THREE  ^ 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  Thank  you 
so  much !  I  am  always  glad  to  have  a 
civilian's  opinion  on  military  matters  — 
and  vice  versa  —  it  broadens  one  so ! 
And  yet  —  am  I  severe  ?  I  am  willing, 
for  instance,  to  overlook  their  raid  upon 
a  native  village,  and  the  ransom  they  de 
manded  for  a  native  inspector  !  I  have 
overlooked  their  taking  the  horses  out  of 
my  carriage  for  their  own  use.  I  am  con 
tent  also  to  believe  that  my  fowls  meekly 
succumb  to  jungle  fever  and  cholera. 
But  there  are  some  things  I  cannot  ignore. 
The  carrying  off  of  the  great  god  Vishnu 
from  the  Sacred  Shrine  at  Ducidbad  by 
The  Three  for  the  sake  of  the  priceless 
opals  in  its  eyes  "  — 

" But  I  never  heard  of  that"  I  inter 
rupted  eagerly.  "  Tell  me." 

"Ah!"    said   the    Colonel    playfully, 

"  that  —  as   you  so  often  and   so  amus- 

•.  ingly  say  —  is  '  Another    Story  ' !      Yet 

I  would  have  overlooked  the  theft  of  the 


STORIES  THREE  181 

opals  if  they  had  not  substituted  two  of 
the  Queen's  regimental  buttons  for  the 
eyes  of  the  god.  This,  while  it  did  not 
deceive  the  ignorant  priests,  had  a  deep 
political  and  racial  significance.  You  are 
aware,  of  course,  that  the  great  mutiny 
was  occasioned  by  the  issue  of  cartridges 
to  the  native  troops  greased  with  hog's 
fat  —  forbidden  by  their  religion." 

"  But  these  three  men  could  themselves 
alone  quell  a  mutiny,"  I  replied. 

The  Colonel  grasped  my  hand  warmly. 
"Thank  you.  So  they  could.  I  never 
thought  of  that."  He  looked  relieved. 
For  all  that,  he  presently  passed  his  hand 
over  his  forehead  and  nervously  chewed 
his  cheroot. 

"  There  is  something  else,"  I  said. 

"  You  are  right.  There  is.  It  is  a 
secret.  Promise  me  it  shall  go  no  further 
-  than  the  Press  ?  Nay,  swear  that  you 
will  keep  it  for  the  Press  !  " 

"I  promise." 


182  STORIES  THREE 

"  Thank  you  so  much.  It  is  a  matter 
of  my  own  and  Mulledwiney's.  The  fact 
is,  we  have  had  a  personal  difficulty." 
He  paused,  glanced  around  him,  and  con 
tinued  in  a  low,  agitated  voice  :  "  Yester 
day  I  came  upon  him  as  he  was  sitting 
leaning  against  the  barrack  wall.  In  a 
spirit  of  playfulness  —  mere  playfulness, 
I  assure  you,  sir  —  I  poked  him  lightly 
in  the  shoulder  with  my  stick,  saying 
6  Boo  ! '  He  turned  —  and  I  shall  never 
forget  the  look  he  gave  me." 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  I  gasped,  "  you 
touched  —  absolutely  touched  —  Mulled- 
winey  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "I  knew 
what  you  would  say ;  it  was  against  the 
Queen's  Eegulations  —  and  —  there  was 
his  sensitive  nature  which  shrinks  from 
even  a  harsh  word ;  but  I  did  it,  and  of 
course  he  has  me  in  his  power." 

"  And  you  have  touched  him  ?  "  I  re 
peated,  —  "touched  his  private  honor  !  " 


STORIES   THREE  183 

"  Yes  !  But  I  shall  atone  for  it !  I 
have  already  arranged  with  him  that  we 
shall  have  it  out  between  ourselves  alone, 
in  the  jungle,  stripped  to  the  buff,  with 
our  fists  —  Queensberry  rules  !  I  have  n't 
fought  since  I  stood  up  against  Spinks 
Major  —  you  remember  old  Spinks,  now 
of  the  Bombay  Off ensibles  ?  —  at  Eton." 
And  the  old  boy  pluckily  bared  his  skinny 
arm. 

"  It  may  be  serious,"  I  said. 

"  I  have  thought  of  that.  I  have  a 
wife,  several  children,  and  an  aged  parent 
in  England.  If  I  fall,  they  must  never 
know.  You  must  invent  a  story  for  them. 
I  have  thought  of  cholera,  but  that  is 
played  out ;  you  know  we  have  already 
tried  it  on  The  Boy  who  was  Thrown 
Away.  Invent  something  quiet,  peaceable 
and  respectable  —  as  far  removed  from 
fighting  as  possible.  What  do  you  say 
to  measles  ?  " 

"  Not  half  bad/'  I  returned. 


184  STORIES  THREE 

"  Measles  let  it  be,  then  !  Say  I  caught 
it  from  Wee  Willie  Winkie.  You  do  not 
think  it  too  incredible?"  he  added  tim 
idly. 

"  Not  more  than  your  story/'  I  said. 

He  grasped  my  hand,  struggling  vio 
lently  with  his  emotion.  Then  he  strug 
gled  with  me  —  and  I  left  hurriedly. 
Poor  old  boy  !  The  funeral  was  well  at 
tended,  however,  and  no  one  knew  the 
truth,  not  even  myself. 


Ill 

JUNGLE  FOLK 

IT  was  high  noon  of  a  warm  summer's 
day  when  Moo  Kow  came  down  to  the 
watering-place.  Miaow,  otherwise  known 
as  "  Puskat "  —  the  warmth-loving  one  — 
was  crouching  on  a  limb  that  overhung  the 
pool,  sunning  herself.  Brer  Rabbit  —  but 
that  is  Another  Story  by  Another  Person. 

Three  or  four  Gee  Gees,  already  at  the 
pool,  moved  away  on  the  approach  of  Moo 
Kow. 

"  Why  do  ye  stand  aside  ? "  said  the 
Moo  Kow. 

"  Why  do  you  say  <  ye  '  ?  "  said  the 
Gee  Gees  together. 

"  Because  it 's  more  impressive  than 
'you.'  Don't  you  know  that  all  animals 
talk  that  way  in  English  ?  "  said  the  Moo 
Kow. 


186  STORIES  THREE 

"  And  they  also  say  '  thou,'  and  don't 
you  forget  it !  "  interrupted  Miaow  from 
the  tree.  "  I  learnt  that  from  a  Man 
Cub." 

The  animals  were  silent.  They  did  not 
like  Miaow's  slang,  and  were  jealous  of 
her  occasionally  sitting  on  a  Man  Cub's 
lap.  Once  Dun-kee,  a  poor  relation  of 
the  Gee  Gees,  had  tried  it  on,  disastrously 
—  but  that  is  also  Another  and  a  more 
Aged  Story. 

"  We  are  ridden  by  The  English  — 
please  to  observe  the  Capital  letters/'  said 
Pi  Bol,  the  leader  of  the  Gee  Gees, 
proudly.  "  They  are  a  mighty  race  who 
ride  anything  and  everybody.  D'  ye  mind 
that  —  I  mean,  look  ye  well  to  it !  " 

"  What  should  they  know  of  England 
who  only  England  know  ?  "  said  Miaow. 

"  Is  that  a  conundrum  ?  "  asked  the 
Moo  Kow. 

"  No  ;  it 's  poetry,"  said  the  Miaow. 

"  I  know  England,"  said  Pi  Bol  pran- 


STORIES  THREE  187 

cingly.  "  I  used  to  go  from  the  Bank  to 
Islington  three  times  a  day — I  mean/' 
he  added  hurriedly,  "  before  I  became  a 
screw  —  I  should  say,  a  screw-gun  horse." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  Moo  Kow,  "  am  ter 
rible.  When  the  young  women  and  chil 
dren  in  the  village  see  me  approach  they 
fly  shriekingly.  My  presence  alone  has 
scattered  their  sacred  festival  —  The 
Sundes  Kool  Piknik.  I  strike  terror  to 
their  inmost  souls,  and  am  more  feared  by 
them  than  even  Kreep-mows,  the  insidi 
ous  !  And  yet,  behold  !  I  have  taken 
the  place  of  the  mothers  of  men,  and  I 
have  nourished  the  mighty  ones  of  the 
earth  !  But  that,"  said  the  Moo  Kow, 
turning  her  head  aside  bashfully,  "  that 
is  Anudder  Story." 

A  dead  silence  fell  on  the  pool. 

"And  I,"  said  Miaow,  lifting  up  her 
voice,  "  I  am  the  horror  and  haunter  of 
the  night  season.  When  I  pass  like  the 
night  wind  over  the  roofs  of  the  houses 


188  STORIES  THREE 

men  shudder  in  their  beds  and  tremble. 
When  they  hear  my  voice  as  I  creep 
stealthily  along  their  balconies  they  cry  to 
their  gods  for  succor.  They  arise,  and 
from  their  windows J  they  offer  me  their 
priceless  household  treasures  —  the  sacred 
vessels  dedicated  to  their  great  god  Shiv 
-  which  they  call  (  Shivin  Mugs  '  —  the 
Kloes  Brosh,  the  Boo-jak,  urging  me  to 
fly  them  !  And  yet,"  said  Miaow  mourn 
fully,  "  it  is  but  my  love-song  !  Think 
ye  what  they  would  do  if  I  were  on  the 
war-path." 

Another  dead  silence  fell  on  the  pool. 
Then  arose  that  strange,  mysterious,  inde 
finable  Thing,  known  as  "The  Scent." 
The  animals  sniffed. 

"  It  heralds  the  approach  of  the  Stalkies 
—  the  most  famous  of  British  Skool 
Boaz,"  said  the  Moo  Kow.  "  They  have 
just  placed  a  decaying  guinea-pig,  two 
white  mice  in  an  advanced  state  of  de 
composition,  and  a  single  slice  of  Lim- 


STORIES  THREE  189 

burger  cheese  in  the  bed  of  their  tutor. 
They  had  previously  skillfully  diverted 
the  drains  so  that  they  emptied  into  the 
drawing-room  of  the  head-master.  They 
have  just  burned  down  his  house  in  an 
access  of  noble  zeal,  and  are  fighting 
among  themselves  for  the  spoil.  Hark  ! 
do  ye  hear  them  ?  " 

A  wild  medley  of  shrieks  and  howls  had 
arisen,  and  an  irregular  mob  of  strange 
creatures  swept  out  of  the  distance  toward 
the  pool.  Some  were  like  pygmies,  some 
had  bloody  noses.  Their  talk  consisted  of 
feverish,  breathless  ejaculations,  —  a  gib 
berish  in  which  the  words  "  rot,"  "  oach," 
and  "  giddy "  were  preeminent.  Some 
were  exciting  themselves  by  chewing  a 
kind  of  "  bhang  "  made  from  the  plant 
called  pappahmint ;  others  had  their  faces 
streaked  with  djam. 

"  But  who  is  this  they  are  ducking  in 
the  pool?"  asked  Pi  Bol. 

"  It  is  one  who  has  foolishly  and  wan- 


190  STORIES  THREE 

tonly  conceived  that  his  parents  have  sent 
him  here  to  study/'  said  the  Moo  Kow ; 
"but  that  is  against  the  rules  of  the 
Stalkies,  who  accept  study  only  as  a 
punishment." 

"  Then  these  be  surely  the  ( Bander 
Log '  —  the  monkey  folk  —  of  whom  the 
good  Khuddyidd  has  told  us,"  said  a  Gee 
Gee  —  "  the  ones  who  have  no  purpose  — 
and  forget  everything." 

"  Fool ! "  said  the  Moo  Kow.  "  Know 
ye  not  that  the  great  Khuddyidd  has  said 
that  the  Stalkies  become  Major-Generals, 
V. C.'s, and  C. B's  of  the  English?  Truly, 
they  are  great.  Look  now ;  ye  shall  see 
one  of  the  greatest  traits  of  the  English 
Stalky." 

One  of  the  pygmy  Stalkies  was  offering 
a  bun  to  a  larger  one,  who  hesitated,  but 
took  it  coldly. 

"  Behold !  it  is  one  of  the  greatest 
traits  of  this  mighty  race  not  to  show  any 
emotion.  He  would  take  the  bun  —  he 


STORIES  THREE  191 

has  taken  it !  He  is  pleased  —  but  he 
may  not  show  it.  Observe  him  eat." 

The  taller  Stalky,  after  eating  the  bun, 
quietly  kicked  the  giver,  knocked  off  his 
hat,  and  turned  away  with  a  calm,  im 
movable  face. 

"Good!"  said  the  Moo  Row.  "Ye 
would  not  dream  that  he  was  absolutely 
choking  with  grateful  emotion  ?  " 

"  We  would  not,"  said  the  animals. 

"But  why  are  they  all  running  back 
the  way  they  came  ?  "  asked  Pi  Bol. 

"  They  are  going  back  to  punishment. 
Great  is  its  power.  Have  ye  not  heard 
the  gospel  of  Rhuddyidd  the  mighty? 
'  Force  is  everything  !  Gentleness  won't 
wash,  courtesy  is  deceitful.  Politeness  is 
foreign.  Be  ye  beaten  that  ye  may  beat. 
Pass  the  kick  on.'  " 

But  here  he  was  interrupted  by  the 
appearance  of  three  soldiers  who  were 
approaching  the  watering-place. 

"Ye    are  now,"  said   the  Moo  Kow, 


192  STORIES  THREE 

"with  the  main  guard.  The  first  is 
Bleareyed,  who  carries  a  raven  in  a  cage, 
which  he  has  stolen  from  the  wife  of  a 
deputy  commissioner.  He  will  paint  the 
bird  snow  white  and  sell  it  as  a  dove  to  the 
same  lady.  The  second  is  Otherwise,  who 
is  dragging  a  small  garden  engine,  of 
which  he  has  despoiled  a  native  gardener, 
whom  he  has  felled  with  a  single  blow. 
The  third  is  Mulledwiney,  swinging  a  cut- 
glass  decanter  of  sherry  which  he  has  just 
snatched  from  the  table  of  his  colonel. 
Mulledwiney  and  Otherwise  will  play  the 
engine  upon  Bleareyed,  who  is  suffering 
from  heat  apoplexy  and  djim-djams." 

The  three  soldiers  seated  themselves  in 
the  pool. 

"They  are  going  to  tell  awful  war 
stories  now,"  said  the  Moo  Kow,  "  stories 
that  are  large  and  strong  !  Some  people 
are  shocked  —  others  like  'em." 

Then  he  that  was  called  Mulledwiney 
told  a  story.  In  the  middle  of  it  Miaow 


STORIES  THREE  193 

got  up  from  the  limb  of  the  tree,  coughed 
slightly,  and  put  her  paw  delicately  over 
her  mouth.  "  You  must  excuse  me," 
she  said  faintly.  "  I  am  taken  this  way 
sometimes  —  and  I  have  left  my  salts  at 
home.  Thanks  !  I  can  get  down  my 
self  !  "  The  next  moment  she  had  dis 
appeared,  but  was  heard  coughing  in  the 
distance. 

Mulledwiney  winked  at  his  companions 
and  continued  his  story :  — 

"Wid  that  we  wor  in  the  thick  av 
the  foight.  Whin  I  say  ' thick'  I  mane 
it,  sorr  !  We  wor  that  jammed  together, 
divil  a  bit  cud  we  shoot  or  cut !  At  fur- 
rest,  I  had  lashed  two  mushkits  together 
wid  the  baynits  out  so,  like  a  hay  fork, 
and  getting  the  haymaker's  lift  on  thim, 
I  just  lifted  two  Paythians  out  —  one  an 
aych  baynit  —  and  passed  'em,  aisy-like, 
over  me  head  to  the  rear  rank  for  them 
to  finish.  But  what  wid  the  blud  gettin' 
into  me  ois,  I  was  blinded,  and  the  pres- 


194  STORIES  THREE 

sure  kept  incraysin'  until  me  arrums  was 
thrussed  like  a  fowl  to  me  sides,  and  sorra 
a  bit  cud  I  move  but  me  jaws !  " 

"  And  bloomin'  well  you  knew  how  to 
use  them,"  said  Otherwise. 

"  Thrue  for  you  —  though  ye  don't 
mane  it !  "  said  Mulledwiney,  playfully 
tapping  Otherwise  on  the  head  with  a 
decanter  till  the  cut  glass  slowly  shivered. 
"  So,  begorra  !  there  wor  nothing  left  for 
me  to  do  but  to  ate  thim  !  Wirra  !  but 
it  was  the  crooel  worruk." 

"  Excuse  me,  my  lord/'  interrupted  the 
gasping  voice  of  Pi  Bol  as  he  began  to 
back  from  the  pool,  "  I  am  but  a  horse, 
I  know,  and  being  built  in  that  way  — 
naturally  have  the  stomach  of  one  —  yet, 
really,  my  lord,  this —  er  "  —  And  his 
voice  was  gone. 

The  next  moment  he  had  disappeared. 
Mulledwiney  looked  around  with  affected 
concern. 

"  Save  us !     But  we  Ve  cleaned  out 


STORIES  THREE  195 

the  Jungle  !     Sure,  there  ?s  not  a  baste 
left  but  ourselves  !  " 

It  was  true.  The  watering-place  was 
empty.  Moo  Kow,  Miaow,  and  the  Gee 
Gees  had  disappeared.  Presently  there 
was  a  booming  crash  and  a  long,  deep 
rumbling  among  the  distant  hills.  Then 
they  knew  they  were  near  the  old  Moul- 
mein  Pagoda,  and  the  dawn  had  come  up 
like  thunder  out  of  China  'cross  the  bay. 
It  always  came  up  that  wav  there.  The 
strain  was  too  great,  and  day  was  actually 
breaking. 


«  ZUT-SKI " 

THE  PROBLEM   OF  A  WICKED   FEME  SOLE 
BY  M-R-E  C-R-LLI 


«  ZUT-SKI " 


THE  great  pyramid  towered  up  from 
the  desert  with  its  apex  toward  the  moon 
which  hung  in  the  sky.  For  centuries 
it  had  stood  thus,  disdaining  the  aid  of 
gods  or  man,  being,  as  the  Sphinx  herself 
observed,  able  to  stand  up  for  itself.  And 
this  was  no  small  praise  from  that  sub 
lime  yet  mysterious  female  who  had  seen 
the  ages  come  and  go,  empires  rise  and 
fall,  novelist  succeed  novelist,  and  who, 
for  eons  and  cycles  the  cynosure  and 
centre  of  admiration  and  men's  idolatrous 
worship,  had  yet  —  wonderful  for  a  wo 
man  -  -  through  it  all  kept  her  head, 
which  now  alone  remained  to  survey 
calmly  the  present.  Indeed,  at  that  mo 
ment  that  magnificent  and  peaceful  face 


200  "ZUT-SKI" 

seemed  to  have  lost  —  with  a  few  unim 
portant  features  —  its  usual  expression  of 
speculative  wisdom  and  intense  disdain  ; 
its  mouth  smiled,  its  left  eyelid  seemed  to 
droop.  As  the  opal  tints  of  dawn  deep 
ened  upon  it,  the  eyelid  seemed  to  droop 
lower,  closed,  and  quickly  recovered  itself 
twice.  You  would  have  thought  the 
Sphinx  had  winked. 

Then  arose  a  voice  like  a  wind  on  the 
desert,  —  but  really  from  the  direction  of 
the  Nile,  where  a  hired  dahabiyeh  lay 
moored  to  the  bank,  — - "  ' Arry  Axes  ! 
'Arry  Axes  !  "  With  it  came  also  a  flap 
ping,  trailing  vision  from  the  water  — 
the  sacred  Ibis  itself  —  and  with  wings 
aslant  drifted  mournfully  away  to  its  own 
creaking  echo  :  "  K'raksis  !  K'raksis  !  " 
Again  arose  the  weird  voice :  "  'Arry 
Axes  !  Wotcher  doin'  of  ?  "  And  again 
the  Ibis  croaked  its  wild  refrain :  "K'rak 
sis  !  K'raksis  !  "  Moonlight  and  the  hour 
wove  their  own  mystery  (for  which  the 


"ZUT-SKI"  201 

author  is  not  responsible),  and  the  voice 
was  heard  no  more.  But  when  the  full 
day  sprang  in  glory  over  the  desert,  it 
illuminated  the  few  remaining  but  suffi 
ciently  large  features  of  the  Sphinx  with 
a  burning  saffron  radiance  !  The  Sphinx 
had  indeed  blushed ! 


II 

IT  was  the  full  season  at  Cairo.  The 
wealth  and  fashion  of  Bayswater,  South 
Kensington,  and  even  the  bosky  Wood 
of  the  Evangelist  had  sent  their  latest 
luxury  and  style  to  flout  the  tombs  of  the 
past  with  the  ghastly  flippancy  of  to-day. 
The  cheap  tripper  was  there  —  the  latest 
example  of  the  Darwinian  theory  —  ape 
like,  flea  and  curio  hunting  !  Shamelessly 
inquisitive  and  always  hungry,  what  did 
he  know  of  the  Sphinx  or  the  pyramids 
or  the  voice  —  and,  for  the  matter  of  that, 
what  did  they  know  of  him  ?  And  yet 
he  was  not  half  bad  in  comparison  with 
the  "  swagger  people,"  — these  people  who 
pretend  to  have  lungs  and  what  not,  and 
instead  of  galloping  on  merry  hunters 
through  the  frost  and  snow  of  Piccadilly 


"ZUT-SKI"  203 

and  Park,  instead  of  enjoying  the  roaring 
fires  of  piled  logs  in  the  evening,  at  the 
first  approach  of  winter  steal  away  to  the 
Land  of  the  Sun,  and  decline  to  die,  like 
honest  Britons,  on  British  soil.  And  then 
they  know  nothing  of  the  Egyptians  and 
are  horrified  at  "  bakshish,"  which  they 
really  ought  to  pay  for  the  privilege 
of  shocking  the  straight-limbed,  naked- 
footed  Arab  in  his  single  rough  garment 
with  their  baggy  elephant-legged  trousers  ! 
And  they  know  nothing  of  the  mystic 
land  of  the  old  gods,  filled  with  pro 
found  enigmas  of  the  supernatural,  dark 
secrets  yet  unexplored  except  in  this  book. 
Well  might  the  great  Memnon  murmur 
after  this  lapse  of  these  thousand  years, 
"  They  're  making  me  tired  !  " 

Such  was  the  blissful,  self-satisfied  ig 
norance  of  Sir  Midas  Pyle,  or  as  Lord. 
Fitz-Fulke,  with  his  delightful  imitation 
of  the  East  London  accent,  called  him, 
Sir  "  Myde  His  Pyle,"  as  he  leaned  back 


204  "ZUT-SKI" 

on  his  divan  in  the  Grand  Cairo  Hotel. 
He  was  the  vulgar  editor  and  proprietor 
of  a  vulgar  London  newspaper,  and  had 
brought  his  wife  with  him,  who  was  vainly 
trying  to  marry  off  his  faded  daughters. 
There  was  to  be  a  fancy-dress  ball  at  the 
hotel  that  night,  and  Lady  Pyle  hoped 
that  her  girls,  if  properly  disguised,  might 
have  a  better  chance.  Here,  too,  was 
Lady  Fitz-Fulke,  whose  mother  was  im 
mortalized  by  Byron  —  sixty  if  a  day,  yet 
still  dressing  youthfully — who  had  sought 
the  land  of  the  Sphinx  in  the  faint  hope 
that  in  the  contiguity  of  that  lady  she 
might  pass  for  being  young.  Alaster 
McFeckless,  a  splendid  young  Scotchman, 
—  already  dressed  as  a  Florentine  sailor 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  which  enabled 
him  to  show  his  magnificent  calves  quite 
as  well  as  in  his  native  highland  dress, 
and  who  had  added  with  characteristic 
noble  pride  a  sporran  to  his  costume, — 
was  lolling  on  another  divan. 


"ZUT-SKI"  205 

"  Oh,  those  exquisite,  those  magnificent 
eyes  of  hers  !  Eh,  sirs  !  "  he  murmured 
suddenly,  as  waking  from  a  dream. 

"  Oh,  damn  her  eyes !  "  said  Lord  Fitz- 
Fulke  languidly.  "  Tell  you  what,  old 
man,  you  're  just  gone  on  that  girl !  " 

"  Ha  !  "  roared  McFeckless,  springing 
to  his  feet,  "  ye  will  be  using  such  lan 
guage  of  the  bonniest" — 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  gentlemen,"  said 
Sir  Midas,  —  who  hated  scenes  unless  he 
had  a  trusted  reporter  with  him,  —  "  but 
I  think  it  is  time  for  me  to  go  upstairs 
and  put  on  my  Windsor  uniform,  which  I 
find  exceedingly  convenient  for  these 
mixed  assemblies."  He  withdrew,  caress 
ing  his  protuberant  paunch  with  some 
dignity,  as  the  two  men  glanced  fiercely 
at  each  other. 

In  another  moment  they  might  have 
sprung  at  each  other's  throats.  But 
luckily  at  this  instant  a  curtain  was  pushed 
aside  as  if  by  some  waiting  listener,  and 


206  "  ZUT-SKI " 

a  thin  man  entered,  dressed  in  cap  and 
gown,  —  which  would  have  been  simply 
academic  but  for  his  carrying  in  one  hand 
behind  him  a  bundle  of  birch  twigs.  It 
was  Dr.  Haustus  Pilgrim,  a  noted  London 
practitioner  and  specialist,  dressed  as  "  Ye 
Olde-fashioned  Pedagogue."  He  was  pre 
sumably  spending  his  holiday  on  the  Nile 
in  a  large  dahabiyeh  with  a  number  of 
friends,  among  whom  he  counted  the  two 
momentary  antagonists  he  had  just  inter 
rupted  ;  but  those  who  knew  the  doctor's 
far-reaching  knowledge  and  cryptic  re 
searches  believed  he  had  his  own  scientific 
motives. 

The  two  men  turned  quickly  as  he  en 
tered  ;  the  angry  light  faded  from  their 
eyes,  and  an  awed  and  respectful  submis 
sion  to  the  intruder  took  its  place.  He 
walked  quietly  toward  them,  put  a  lozenge 
in  the  mouth  of  one  and  felt  the  pulse  of 
the  other,  gazing  critically  at  both. 

"  We  will  be  all  right  in  a  moment," 
he  said  with  professional  confidence. 


"ZUT-SKI"  207 

"  I  say !  "  said  Fitz-Fulke,  gazing  at  the 
doctor's  costume,  "  you  look  dooced  smart 
in  those  togs,  don'tcherknow." 

"  They  suit  me,"  said  the  doctor,  with 
a  playful  swish  of  his  birch  twigs,  at 
which  the  two  grave  men  shuddered. 
"  But  you  were  speaking  of  somebody's 
beautiful  eyes." 

"The  Princess  Zut-Ski's,"  returned 
McFeckless  eagerly ;  "  and  this  daft  cal- 
lant  said  "  — 

"  He  did  n't  like  them,"  put  in  Fitz- 
Fulke  promptly. 

"  Ha  !  "  said  the  doctor  sharply,  "  and 
why  not,  sir  ?  "  As  Fitz-Fulke  hesitated, 
he  added  brusquely :  "  There  !  Run  away 
and  play  !  I  've  business  with  this  young 
man,"  pointing  to  McFeckless. 

As  Fitz-Fulke  escaped  gladly  from  the 
room,  the  doctor  turned  to  McFeckless. 
"It  won't  do,  my  boy.  The  Princess  is 
not  for  you  —  you  '11  only  break  your 
heart  and  ruin  your  family  over  her ! 
That 's  my  advice.  Chuck  her  !  " 


208  "ZUT-SKI" 

"  But  I  cannot/'  said  McFeckless  hum 
bly.  "  Think  of  her  weirdly  beautiful 
eyes." 

"  I  see/'  said  the  doctor  meditatively  ; 
"  sort  of  makes  you  feel  creepy  ?  Kind 
of  all-overishness,  eh  ?  That  ?s  like  her. 
But  whom  have  we  here  ?  " 

He  was  staring  at  a  striking  figure  that 
had  just  entered,  closely  followed  by  a 
crowd  of  admiring  spectators.  And,  in 
deed,  he  seemed  worthy  of  the  homage. 
His  magnificent  form  was  closely  attired 
in  a  velveteen  jacket  and  trousers,  with  a 
singular  display  of  pearl  buttons  along 
the  seams,  that  were  absolutely  lavish  in 
their  quantity ;  a  hat  adorned  with  feathers 
and  roses  completed  his  singularly  pictur 
esque  equipment. 

"  Chevalier  !  "  burst  out  McFeckless 
in  breathless  greeting. 

"  Ah,  mon  ami  !  What  good  chance  ?  " 
returned  the  newcomer,  rushing  to  him 
and  kissing  him  on  both  cheeks,  to  the 


"ZUT-SKI"  209 

British  horror  of  Sir  Midas,  who  had  fol 
lowed.  "  Ah,  but  you  are  perfect !  "  he 
added,  kissing  his  fingers  in  admiration 
of  McFeckless's  Florentine  dress. 

"  But  you  ?  —  what  is  this  ravishing 
costume  ?  "  asked  McFeckless,  with  a  pang 
of  jealousy.  u  You  are  god-like." 

"  It  is  the  dress  of  what  you  call  the 
Koster,  a  transplanted  Phenician  tribe," 
answered  the  other.  "  They  who  knocked 
'em  in  the  road  of  Old  Kent  —  know  you 
not  the  legend  ?  "  As  he  spoke,  he  lifted 
his  superb  form  to  a  warrior's  height  and 
gesture. 

"  But  is  this  quite  correct  ? "  asked 
Fitz-Fulke  of  the  doctor. 

"  Perfectly,"  said  the  doctor  oracularly. 
"  The  renowned  ' ' Arry  Axes  '  —  I  beg 
his  pardon,"  he  interrupted  himself  hastily, 
"  I  mean  the  Chevalier  —  is  perfect  in  his 
archeology  and  ethnology.  The  Koster 
is  originally  a  Gypsy,  which  is  but  a  cor 
ruption  of  the  word  '  Egyptian/  and,  if  I 


210  "ZUT-SKI" 

mistake  not,  that  gentleman  is  a  lineal 
descendant." 

"  But  he  is  sailed  <  Chevalier/  and  he 
speaks  like  a  Frenchman/'  said  Fluffy. 

"  And,  being  a  Frenchman,  of  course 
knows  nothing  outside  of  Paris/'  said  Sir 
Midas. 

"  We  are  in  the  Land  of  Mystery/'  said 
the  doctor  gravely  in  a  low  voice.  "  You 
have  heard  of  the  Egyptian  Hall  and  the 
Temple  of  Mystery  ?  " 

A  shudder  passed  through  many  that 
were  there  ;  but  the  majority  were  follow 
ing  with  wild  adulation  the  superb  Koster, 
who,  with  elbows  slightly  outward  and 
hands  turned  inward,  was  passing  toward 
the  ballroom.  McFeckless  accompanied 
him  with  conflicting  emotions.  Would 
he  see  the  incomparable  Princess,  who  was 
lovelier  and  even  still  more  a  mystery  than 
the  Chevalier  ?  Would  she  —  terrible 
thought !  —  succumb  to  his  perfections  ? 


m 

THE  Princess  was  already  there,  sur 
rounded  by  a  crowd  of  admirers,  equal 
if  not  superior  to  those  who  were  follow 
ing  the  superb  Chevalier.  Indeed,  they 
met  almost  as  rivals  !  Their  eyes  sought 
each  other  in  splendid  competition.  The 
Chevalier  turned  away,  dazzled  and  inco 
herent.  "  She  is  adorable,  magnificent !  " 
he  gasped  to  McFeckless.  "I  love  her 
on  the  instant !  Behold,  I  am  trans 
ported,  ravished !  Present  me." 

Indeed,  as  she  stood  there  in  a  strange 
gauzy  garment  of  exquisite  colors,  ap 
parently  shapeless,  yet  now  and  then 
revealing  her  perfect  figure  like  a  bather 
seen  through  undulating  billows,  she  was 
lovely.  Two  wands  were  held  in  her 
taper  fingers,  whose  mystery  only  added 


212  "ZUT-SKI" 

to  the  general  curiosity,  but  whose  weird 
and  cabalistic  uses  were  to  be  seen  later. 
Her  magnificent  face  —  strange  in  its 
beauty  —  was  stranger  still,  since,  with 
perfect  archa3ological  Egyptian  correct 
ness,  she  presented  it  only  in  profile,  at 
whatever  angle  the  spectator  stood.  But 
such  a  profile  !  The  words  of  the  great 
Poet  -  King  rose  to  McFeckless's  lips : 
"  Her  nose  is  as  a  tower  that  looketh 
toward  Damascus." 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  torn  with  love 
and  jealousy,  and  then  presented  his 
friend.  "  You  will  fall  in  love  with  her 
—  and  then  —  you  will  fall  also  by  my 
hand/'  he  hissed  in  his  rival's  ear,  and 
fled  tumultuously. 

"  Voulez-vous  danser,  mademoiselle  f  " 
whispered  the  Chevalier  in  the  perfect 

accent  of  the  boulevardier. 

* 

"Merci,  beaucoup"  she  replied  in  the 

diplomatic  courtesies  of  the  Ambassadeurs. 

They  danced  together,  not  once,  but 


"ZUT-SKI"  213 

many  times,  to  the  admiration,  the  wonder 
and  envy  of  all ;  to  the  scandalized  repro 
bation  of  a  proper  few.  Who  was  she? 
Who  was  he  ?  It  was  easy  to  answer  the 
last  question :  the  world  rang  with  the 
reputation  of  "  Chevalier  the  Artist." 
But  she  was  still  a  mystery. 

Perhaps  they  were  not  so  to  each  other  ! 
He  was  gazing  deliriously  into  her  eyes. 
She  was  looking  at  him  in  disdainful 
curiosity.  "  I  Ve  seen  you  before  some 
where,  have  n't  I?  "  she  said  at  last,  with 
a  crushing  significance. 

He  shuddered,  he  knew  not  why,  and 
passed  his  hand  over  his  high  forehead. 
"  Yes,  I  go  there  very  often,"  he  replied 
vacantly.  "  But  you,  mademoiselle  — 
you  —  I  have  met  before  ?  ' 

"  Oh,  ages,  ages  ago  !  "  There  was 
something  weird  in  her  emphasis. 

"  Ha  !  "  said  a  voice  near  them,  "  I 
thought  so  !  "  It  was  the  doctor,  peering 
at  them  curiously.  "  And  you  both  feel 


214  "ZUT-SKI" 

rather  dazed  and  creepy  ?  "  He  suddenly 
felt  their  pulses,  lingering,  however,  as  the 
Chevalier  fancied,  somewhat  longer  than 
necessary  over  the  lady's  wrist  and  beauti 
ful  arm.  He  then  put  a  small  round  box 
in  the  Chevalier's  hand,  saying,  "  One 
before  each  meal,"  and  turning  to  the 
lady  with  caressing  professional  accents 
said,  "We  must  wrap  ourselves  closely 
and  endeavor  to  induce  perspiration," 
and  hurried  away,  dragging  the  Chevalier 
with  him.  When  they  reached  a  secluded 
corner,  he  said,  "  You  had  just  now  a 
kind  of  feeling,  don't  you  know,  as  if 
you  'd  sort  of  been  there  before,  did  n't 
you?" 

"Yes,  what  you  call  a  —  preexistence," 
said  the  Chevalier  wonderingly. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  often  observed  that  those 
who  doubt  a  future  state  of  existence  have 
no  hesitation  in  accepting  a  previous  one," 
said  the  doctor  dryly.  "  But  come,  I  see 
from  the  way  the  crowd  are  hurrying  that 


"ZUT-SKI"  215 

your  divinity's  number  is  up  —  I  mean/' 
he  corrected  himself  hastily,  "  that  she  is 
probably  dancing  again." 

"  Aha  !  with  him,  the  imbecile  McFeck- 
less  ?  "  gasped  the  Chevalier. 

"  No,  alone." 

She  was  indeed  alone,  in  the  centre 
of  the  ballroom  — with  outstretched  arms 
revolving  in  an  occult,  weird,  dreamy, 
mystic,  druidical,  cabalistic  circle.  They 
now  for  the  first  time  perceived  the  mean 
ing  of  those  strange  wands  which  appeared 
to  be  attached  to  the  many  folds  of  her 
diaphanous  skirts  and  involved  her  in  a 
fleecy,  whirling  cloud.  Yet  in  the  wild 
convolutions  of  her  garments  and  the  mad 
gyrations  of  her  figure,  her  face  was 
upturned  with  the  seraphic  intensity  of 
a  devotee,  and  her  lips  parted  as  with 
the  impassioned  appeal  for  "  Light !  more 
light !  "  And  the  appeal  was  answered. 
A  flood  of  blue,  crimson,  yellow,  and 
green  radiance  was  alternately  poured 


216  "ZUT-SKI" 

upon  her  from  the  black  box  of  a 
mysterious  Nubian  slave  in  the  gallery. 
The  effect  was  marvelous  ;  at  one  moment 
she  appeared  as  a  martyr  in  a  sheet  of 
flame,  at  another  as  an  angel  wrapped  in 
white  and  muffled  purity,  and  again  as 
a  nymph  of  the  cerulean  sea,  and  then 
suddenly  a  cloud  of  darkness  seemed  to 
descend  upon  her,  through  which  for  an 
instant  her  figure,  as  immaculate  and  per 
fect  as  a  marble  statue,  showed  distinctly 
—  then  the  light  went  out  and  she  van 
ished  ! 

The  whole  assembly  burst  into  a  rap 
turous  cry.  Even  the  common  Arab  at 
tendants  who  were  peeping  in  at  the  doors 
raised  their  melodious  native  cry,  "  Alloe, 
Fullah  !  Alloe,  Fullah  !  "  again  and  again. 

A  shocked  silence  followed.  Then  the 
voice  of  Sir  Midas  Pyle  was  heard  ad 
dressing  Dr.  Haustus  Pilgrim  : 

"  May  we  not  presume,  sir,  that  what 
we  have  just  seen  is  not  unlike  that  re- 


"  ZUT-SKI  217 

markable  exhibition  when  I  was  pained 
to  meet  you  one  evening  at  the  Alham- 
bra?" 

The  doctor  coughed  slightly.  "  The 
Alhambra  —  ah,  yes  !  —  you  —  er  —  re 
fer,  I  presume,  to  Granada  and  the 
Land  of  the  Moor,  where  we  last  met. 
The  music  and  dance  are  both  distinctly 
Moorish  —  which,  after  all,  is  akin  to  the 
Egyptian.  I  am  gratified  indeed  that 
your  memory  should  be  so  retentive  and 
your  archaBological  comparison  so  accu 
rate.  But  see !  the  ladies  are  retiring. 
Let  us  follow." 


IV 

THE  intoxication  produced  by  the  per 
formance  of  the  Princess  naturally  had  its 
reaction.  The  British  moral  soul,  startled 
out  of  its  hypocrisy  the  night  before,  de 
manded  the  bitter  beer  of  self-conscious 
ness  and  remorse  the  next  morning.  The 
ladies  were  now  openly  shocked  at  what 
they  had  secretly  envied.  Lady  Pyle  was, 
however,  propitiated  by  the  doctor's  assur 
ance  that  the  Princess  was  a  friend  of 
Lady  Fitz-Fulke,  who  had  promised  to 
lend  her  youthful  age  and  aristocratic 
prestige  to  the  return  ball  which  the 
Princess  had  determined  to  give  at  her 
own  home.  "  Still,  I  think  the  Princess 
open  to  criticism,"  said  Sir  Midas  oracu 
larly. 

"  Damn  all  criticism  and  critics  !  "  burst 


"ZUT-SKI"  219 

out  McFeckless,  with  the  noble  frankness 
of  a  passionate  and  yet  unfettered  soul. 
Sir  Midas,  who  employed  critics  in  his 
business,  as  he  did  other  base  and  ignoble 
slaves,  drew  up  himself  and  his  paunch 
and  walked  away. 

The  Chevalier  cast  a  superb  look  at 
McFeckless.  "  Voila  !  Eegard  me  well ! 
I  shall  seek  out  this  Princess  when  she  is 
with  herself  !  Alone,  comprenez  ?  I  shall 
seek  her  at  her  hotel  in  the  Egyptian 
Hall !  Ha  !  ha  !  I  shaU  seek  Zut-Ski ! 
Zut !  "  And  he  made  that  rapid  yet  grace 
ful  motion  of  his  palm  against  his  thigh 
known  only  to  the  true  Parisian. 

"  It 's  a  rum  hole  where  she  lives,  and 
nobody  gets  a  sight  of  her,"  said  Flossy. 
"  It 's  like  a  beastly  family  vault,  don't 
you  know,  outside,  and  there  's  a  kind  of 
nigger  doorkeeper  that  vises  you  and 
chucks  you  out  if  you  have  n't  the  straight 
tip.  I  '11  show  you  the  way,  if  you  like." 
y  en  avant  !  "  said  the  Cheva- 


220  "2UT-SKI" 

Her  gayly.  "  I  precipitate  myself  there 
on  the  instant." 

"  Remember  !  '  hissed  McFeckless, 
grasping  his  arm,  "  you  shall  account  to 
me!" 

"  Bien  !  "  said  the  Chevalier,  shaking 
him  off  lightly.  "  All  a-r-r-right."  Then, 
in  that  incomparable  baritone,  which  had 
so  often  enthralled  thousands,  he  moved 
away,  trolling  the  first  verse  of  the  Prin 
cess's  own  faint,  sweet,  sad  song  of  the 
"Lotus  Lily,"  that  thrilled  McFeckless 
even  through  the  Chevalier's  marked 
French  accent :  — 

"  Oh,  a  hard  zing  to  get  is  ze  Lotus  Lillee  ! 
She  lif  in  ze  swamp  —  in  ze  watair  chillee  ; 
She  make  your  foot  wet  —  and  you  look  so  sillee, 
But  you  buy  her  for  sixpence  in  Piccadillee  ! " 

In  half  an  hour  the  two  men  reached 
the  remote  suburb  where  the  Princess 
lived,  a  gloomy,  windowless  building. 
Pausing  under  a  low  archway  over  which 
in  Egyptian  characters  appeared  the  faded 


"ZUT-SKI"  221 

legend,  "  Sta  Ged  Oor,"  they  found  a 
Nubian  slave  blocking  the  dim  entrance. 

"I  leave  you  here/'  said  Flossy  hur 
riedly,  "  as  even  I  left  once  before  —  only 
then  I  was  lightly  assisted  by  his  san 
daled  foot/'  he  added,  rubbing  himself 
thoughtfully.  "  But  better  luck  to  you." 

As  his  companion  retreated  swiftly,  the 
Chevalier  turned  to  the  slave  and  would 
have  passed  in,  but  the  man  stopped  him. 
"  Got  a  pass,  boss  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  Chevalier. 

The  man  looked  at  him  keenly.  "  Oh, 
I  see  !  one  of  de  profesh." 

The  Chevalier  nodded  haughtily.  The 
man  preceded  him  by  devious,  narrow 
ways  and  dark  staircases,  coming  abruptly 
upon  a  small  apartment  where  the  Prin 
cess  sat  on  a  low  divan.  A  single  lamp 
inclosed  in  an  ominous  wire  cage  flared 
above  her.  Strange  things  lay  about  the 
floor  and  shelves,  and  from  another  door 
he  could  see  hideous  masks,  frightful 


222  "ZUT-SKI" 

heads,  and  disproportionate  faces.  He 
shuddered  slightly,  but  recovered  himself 
and  fell  on  his  knees  before  her.  "  I  lof e 
you/'  he  said  madly.  "  I  have  always 
lofed  you  !  " 

"  For  how  long  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a 
strange  smile. 

He  covertly  consulted  his  shirt  cuff. 
"  For  tree  tousand  fife  hundred  and  sixty- 
two  years,"  he  said  rapidly. 

She  looked  at  him  disdainfully.  "  The 
doctor  has  been  putting  you  up  to  that ! 
It  won't  wash !  I  don't  refer  to  your 
shirt  cuff,"  she  added  with  deep  satire. 

"  Adorable  one ! "  he  broke  out  pas 
sionately,  attempting  to  embrace  her,  "  I 
have  come  to  take  you."  Without  mov 
ing,  she  touched  a  knob  in  the  wall.  A 
trap-door  beyond  him  sank,  and  out  of 
the  bowels  of  the  earth  leaped  three  inde 
scribable  demons.  Then,  rising,  she  took 
a  cake  of  chalk  from  the  table  and,  draw 
ing  a  mystic  half  circle  on  the  floor,  re- 


"ZUT-SKI"  223 

turned  to  the  divan,  lit  a  cigarette,  and 
leaning  comfortably  back,  said  in  a  low, 
monotonous  voice,  "Advance  one  foot 
within  that  magic  line,  and  on  that  head, 
although  it  wore  a  crown,  I  launch  the 
curse  of  Rome." 

"  I  —  only  wanted  to  take  you — with 
a  kodak,"  he  said,  with  a  light  laugh  to 
conceal  his  confusion,  as  he  produced  the 
instrument  from  his  coat-tail  pocket. 

"  Not  with  that  cheap  box,"  she  said, 
rising  with  magnificent  disdain.  "  Come 
again  with  a  decent  instrument  —  and 
perhaps  "  —  Then,  lightly  humming  in 
a  pure  contralto,  "I  've  been  photo 
graphed  like  this  —  I  've  been  photo 
graphed  like  that,"  she  summoned  the 
slave  to  conduct  him  back,  and  vanished 
through  a  canvas  screen,  which  never 
theless  seemed  to  the  dazed  Chevalier  to 
be  the  stony  front  of  the  pyramids. 


you  saw  her?"  said  the  doctor 
in  French. 

"  Yes  ;  but  the  three-thousand-year  gag 
did  not  work!  She  spotted  you,  cher 
ami,  on  the  instant.  And  she  would  n't 
let  me  take  her  with  my  kodak." 

The  doctor  looked  grave.  "  I  see,"  he 
mused  thoughtfully.  "You  must  have 
my  camera,  a  larger  one  and  more  bulky 
perhaps  to  carry ;  but  she  will  not  object 
to  that,  —  she  who  has  stood  for  full 
lengths.  I  will  give  you  some  private  in 
structions." 

"But,  cher  doctor,  this  previous-exist 
ence  idea  —  at  what  do  you  arrive  ?  " 

"  There  is  much  to  say  for  it,"  said  the 
doctor  oracularly.  "  It  has  survived  in 
the  belief  of  all  ages.  Who  can  tell? 


"ZUT-SKI"  225 

That  some  men  in  a  previous  existence 
may  have  been  goats  or  apes/'  continued 
the  doctor,  looking  at  him  curiously,  "  does 
not  seem  improbable  !  From  the  time  of 
Pythagoras  we  have  known  that ;  but  that 
the  individual  as  an  individual  ego  has 
been  remanded  or  projected,  has  harked 
back  or  anticipated  himself,  is,  we  may  say, 
with  our  powers  of  apperception,  —  that 
is,  the  perception  that  we  are  perceiving, 


But  the  Chevalier  had  fled.  "  No  mat 
ter,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  will  see  McFeck- 
less,"  He  did.  He  found  him  gloomy, 
distraught,  baleful.  He  felt  his  pulse. 
"  The  mixture  as  before,"  he  said  briefly, 
"and  a  little  innocent  diversion.  There 
is  an  Aunt  Sally  on  the  esplanade  —  two 
throws  for  a  penny.  It  will  do  you  good. 
Think  no  more  of  this  woman  !  Listen, 
—  I  wish  you  well ;  your  family  have 
always  been  good  patients  of  mine.  Marry 
some  good  Scotch  girl ;  I  know  one  with 


226  "ZUT-SKI" 

fifty  thousand  pounds.     Let  the  Princess 


go!" 


"  To  him  —  never  !  I  will  marry  her  ! 
Yet/'  he  murmured  softly  to  himself, 
"feefty  thousand  pun'  is  nae  small  sum. 
Aye  !  Not  that  I  care  for  siller  —  but 
feefty  thousand  pun' !  Eh,  sirs !  " 


VI 

DR.  HAUSTUS  knew  that  the  Chevalier 
had  again  visited  the  Princess,  although 
he  had  kept  the  visit  a  secret,  —  and 
indeed  was  himself  invisible  for  a  day 
or  two  afterwards.  At  last  the  doctor's 
curiosity  induced  him  to  visit  the  Cheva 
lier's  apartment.  Entering,  he  was  sur 
prised  —  even  in  that  Land  of  Mystery  — 
to  find  the  room  profoundly  dark,  smell 
ing  of  Eastern  drugs,  and  the  Chevalier 
sitting  before  a  large  plate  of  glass  which 
he  was  examining  by  the  aid  of  a  lurid 
ruby  lamp,  —  the  only  light  in  the  weird 
gloom.  His  face  was  pale  and  distraught, 
his  locks  were  disheveled. 

"  Voila  !  "  he  said.  "  Mon  Dieu  !  It 
is  my  third  attempt.  Always  the  same  — 
hideous,  monstrous,  unearthly  !  It  is  she, 
and  yet  it  is  not  she  !  " 


228  "ZUT-SKI" 

The  doctor,  professional  man  as  he  was 
and  inured  to  such  spectacles,  was  startled ! 
The  plate  before  him  showed  the  Princess's 
face  in  all  its  beautiful  contour,  but  only 
dimly  veiling  a  ghastly  death's-head  below. 
There  was  the  whole  bony  structure  of 
the  head  and  the  eyeless  sockets ;  even 
the  graceful,  swan-like  neck  showed  the 
articulated  vertebral  column  that  supported 
it  in  all  its  hideous  reality.  The  beautiful 
shoulders  were  there,  dimly  as  in  a  dream 
—  but  beneath  was  the  empty  clavicle, 
the  knotty  joint,  the  hollow  sternum,  and 
the  ribs  of  a  skeleton  half  length  ! 

The  doctor's  voice  broke  the  silence. 
"  My  friend,"  he  said  dryly,  "  you  see 
only  the  truth  !  You  see  what  she  really 
is,  this  peerless  Princess  of  yours.  You 
see  her  as  she  is  to-day,  and  you  see  her 
kinship  to  the  bones  that  have  lain  for 
centuries  in  yonder  pyramid.  Yet  they 
were  once  as  fair  as  this,  and  this  was  as 
fair  as  they  —  in  effect  the  same  !  You 


"ZUT-SKI"  229 

that  have  madly,  impiously  adored  her 
superficial  beauty,  the  mere  dust  of  to 
morrow,  let  this  be  a  warning  to  you  ! 
You  that  have  no  soul  to  speak  of,  let 
that  suffice  you  !  Take  her  and  be  happy. 
Adieu  !  " 

Yet,  as  he  passed  out  of  the  fitting 
tomblike  gloom  of  the  apartment  and  de 
scended  the  stairs,  he  murmured  to  him 
self  :  "  Odd  that  I  should  have  lent  him 
my  camera  with  the  Rontgen-ray  attach 
ment  still  on.  No  matter  !  It  is  not  the 
first  time  that  the  Princess  has  appeared 
in  two  parts  the  same  evening." 


VII 

IN  spite  of  envy,  jealousy,  and  malice, 
a  certain  curiosity  greater  than  all  these 
drew  everybody  to  the  Princess  Zut-Ski's 
ball.  Lady  Fitz-Fulke  was  there  in  virgin 
white,  looking  more  youthful  than  ever, 
in  spite  of  her  sixty-five  years  and  the  card 
labeled  "Fresh  Paint"  which  somebody 
had  playfully  placed  upon  her  enameled 
shoulder.  The  McFecklesses,  the  Pyles, 
Flossy,  the  doctor,  and  the  Chevalier  — 
looking  still  anxious  —  were  in  attendance. 

The  mysterious  Nubian  doorkeeper  ad 
mitted  the  guests  through  the  same  nar 
row  passages,  much  to  the  disgust  of 
Lady  Pyle  and  the  discomfiture  of  her 
paunchy  husband;  but  on  reaching  a 
large  circular  interior  hall,  a  greater  sur 
prise  was  in  store  for  them.  It  was  found 


"ZUT-SKI"  231 

that  the  only  entrance  to  the  body  of  the 
hall  was  along  a  narrow  ledge  against  the 
bare  wall  some  distance  from  the  floor, 
which  obliged  the  guests  to  walk  slowly, 
in  single  file,  along  this  precarious  strip, 
giving  them  the  attitudes  of  an  Egyptian 
frieze,  which  was  suggested  in  the  original 
plaster  above  them.  It  is  needless  to  say 
that,  while  the  effect  was  ingenious  and 
striking  from  the  centre  of  the  room, 
where  the  Princess  stood  with  a  few  per 
sonal  friends,  it  was  exceedingly  uncom 
fortable  to  the  figures  themselves,  in  their 
enforced  march  along  the  ledge,  —  espe 
cially  a  figure  of  Sir  Midas  Pyle's  propor 
tions.  Suddenly  an  exclamation  broke 
from  the  doctor. 

"  Do  you  see,"  he  said  to  the  Princess, 
pointing  to  the  figure  of  the  Chevalier, 
who  was  filing  along  with  his  sinewy  hands 
slightly  turned  inward,  "  how  surprisingly 
like  he  is  to  the  first  attendant  on  the 
King  in  the  real  frieze  above  ?  And  that," 


232  "ZUT-SKI" 

added  the  doctor,  "  was  none  other  than 
'Arry  Axes,  the  Egyptian  you  are  always 
thinking  of."  And  he  peered  curiously 
at  her. 

"  Goodness  me !  "  murmured  the  Prin 
cess,  in  an  Arabic  much  more  soft  and 
fluent  than  the  original  gum.  "  So  he 
does  —  look  like  him." 

"  And  do  you  know  you  look  like  him, 
too?  Would  you  mind  taking  a  walk 
around  together?  " 

They  did,  amid  the  acclamations  of  the 
crowd.  The  likeness  was  perfect.  The 
Princess,  however,  was  quite  white  as  she 
eagerly  rejoined  the  doctor. 

"And  this  means  —  ?"  she  hissed  in  a 
low  whisper. 

"  That  he  is  the  real  'Arry  Axes ! 
Hush,  not  a  word  now  !  We  join  the 
dahabiyeh  to-night.  At  daybreak  you 
will  meet  him  at  the  fourth  angle  of  the 
pyramid,  first  turning  from  the  Nile  !  " 


VIII 

THE  crescent  moon  hung  again  over 
the  apex  of  the  Great  Pyramid,  like  a 
silver  cutting  from  the  rosy  nail  of  a  houri. 
The  Sphinx  —  mighty  guesser  of  riddles, 
reader  of  rebuses  and  universal  solver  of 
missing  words  —  looked  over  the  unfath 
omable  desert  and  these  few  pages,  with 
the  worried,  hopeless  expression  of  one 
who  is  obliged  at  last  to  give  it  up.  And 
then  the  wailing  voice  of  a  woman,  toiling 
up  the  steep  steps  of  the  pyramid,  was 
heard  above  the  creaking  of  the  Ibis: 
"  '  Arry  Axes  1  Where  are  you  ?  Wait 
for  me." 

"  J'y  suis"  said  a  voice  from  the  very 
summit  of  the  stupendous  granite  bulk, 
"  yet  I  cannot  reach  it." 

And  in  that  faint  light  the  figure  of  a 


234  "ZUT-SKI" 

man  was  seen,  lifting  his  arms  wildly 
toward  the  moon. 

"  'Arry  Axes/'  persisted  the  voice, 
drifting  higher,  "  wait  for  me  ;  we  are 
pursued." 

And  indeed  it  was  true.  A  band  of 
Nubians,  headed  by  the  doctor,  was  already 
swarming  like  ants  up  the  pyramid,  and 
the  unhappy  pair  were  secured.  And  when 
the  sun  rose,  it  was  upon  the  white  sails 
of  the  dahabiyeh,  the  vacant  pyramid,  and 
the  slumbering  Sphinx. 

There  was  great  excitement  at  the  Cairo 
Hotel  the  next  morning.  The  Princess 
and  the  Chevalier  had  disappeared,  and 
with  them  Alaster  McFeckless,  Lady  Fitz- 
Fulke,  the  doctor,  and  even  his  dahabiyeh ! 
A  thousand  rumors  had  been  in  circula 
tion.  Sir  Midas  Pyle  looked  up  from  the 
"  Times  "  with  his  usual  I-told-you-so  ex 
pression. 

"It  is  the  most  extraordinary  thing, 


"  ZUT-SKI "  235 

don'tcherknow,"  said  Fitz-Fulke.  "It 
seems  that  Dr.  Haustus  Pilgrim  was  here 
professionally — as  a  nerve  specialist  —  in 
the  treatment  of  hallucinations  produced 
by  neurotic  conditions,  you  know." 

"  A  mad  doctor,  here  !  "  gasped  Sir 
Midas. 

"  Yes.  The  Princess,  the  Chevalier, 
McFeckless,  and  even  my  mother  were  all 
patients  of  his  on  the  dahabiyeh.  He 
believed,  don'tcherknow,  in  humoring 
them  and  letting  them  follow  out  their 
cranks,  under  his  management.  The 
Princess  was  a  music-hall  artist  who  im 
agined  she  was  a  dead  and  gone  Egyptian 
Princess ;  and  the  queerest  of  all,  'Arry 
Axes  was  also  a  music-hall  singer  who 
imagined  himself  Chevalier  —  you  know, 
the  great  Koster  artist  —  and  that 's  how 
we  took  him  for  a  Frenchman.  McFeck 
less  and  my  poor  old  mother  were  the 
only  ones  with  any  real  rank  and  position 
—  but  you  know  what  a  beastly  bounder 


236  "ZUT-SKI" 

Mac  was,  and  the  poor  mater  did  overdo 
the  youthful !  We  never  called  the  doc 
tor  in  until  the  day  she  wanted  to  go  to  a 
swell  ball  in  London  as  Little  Red  Riding- 
hood.  But  the  doctor  writes  me  that  the 
experiment  was  a  success,  and  they  '11  be 
all  right  when  they  get  back  to  London." 

"  Then,  it  seems,  sir,  that  you  and  I 
were  the  only  sane  ones  here,"  said  Sir 
Midas  furiously. 

"  Really  it 's  as  much  as  I  can  do  to  be 
certain  about  myself,  old  chappie,"  said 
Fitz-Fulke,  turning  away. 


THE  END 


14  DAY  USE 

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